The Random Hand of Fate
by TheMightyTeaRex
Summary: "Destiny is not set in stone. It only takes one grain of rice to tip a scale, one pebble falling into the sea to start a tidal wave; Every action, no matter how small has an effect on the future. So, tell me... do you believe in destiny?" Real-world SI. First-time fanfic. Rated M for violence, gore, swearing, smut (later on) and alcohol. Warhammer 40K characters in Remnant.
1. Stranger in a Strange Land

**Okay, so... Version #2 of this story. Let's see if I can pace it better this time, eh?**

 **Get ready for a lot of shit-writing ahead, since this is my first foray into fanfic-writing in the first place.**

 **EDIT: Believe me when I say the chapters will only get longer and _hopefully_ better the farther in you go. Just some food for thought.**

 **Anyway, let's get to it!**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Stranger in a Strange Land**

 _"We are shaped by Fate just as we shape it." -Bonesingers of Craftworld Ulthwé, Warhammer 40000_

* * *

Pain.

That was the first thing to flash in his mind. The unbearable ache of every bone in his body. The feeling of going 10 rounds with George Foreman in the Ring, only to get sucker punched by John Cena on the way back to the lockers.

 _Wait, wait. Two different associations, stupid,_ he mentally berated himself through the ache. Then again, when you feel that level of pain, you're bound to not think straight.

The second thing to mentally come to him was light. Last thing he remembered it had been midnight or so, he'd been on his couch, coordinating with his buddies for a PlanetSide II raid. Or, was it driving to work the following morning... odd. Now it registered in his cortex that the sun was shining high in the sky—or at least relatively high, as his eyes were still closed—and he was lying on his back on the ground.

Oh yeah, he was on the ground. In the grass. _Grass? Where the hell am I_ , he questioned the abyss. His eyes strained to open, the sun burning his retinas every time his eyes opened. Rolling over on his side, his eyes were finally allowed some leniency to open up. In the cognitive part of his brain, he was expecting to look up and see something along the lines of a car accident that he was ejected from or-

Or someplace else entirely. _Huh_. In particular, it seemed to be a massive forest, deciduous trees concealing the sky beyond the peephole of a clearing where he was now. A lone tree—an aspen his mind said—stood proudly atop the clearing, its branches just outside of the reach to shield his eyes as he first awoke. Around the clearing the grass seemed almost pristinely short, as if it had just been mowed earlier that day. The occasional dandelion stood amidst the greenery, the yellow blooms proudly declaring themselves amidst the forest floor. Looking back at the tree, he could see something was laying against it—a backpack so he thought—laying atop a massive root breaking the surface of the dirt. Looking closer, it was indeed his backpack; the green-brown camo pattern of a hunter's backpack was ironically easy to spot up against the ivory-white of the aspen.

 _...Please don't tell me I'm dead,_ he bemoaned in his mind.

"If this is a cruel joke, God," he decried to the clouds above, "I apologize if I ain't laughing."

The vasty empty sky failed to respond.

He hung his head. _No answer. I shouldn't be surprised._

Getting to his feet, he found he was still wearing his usual attire: a white t-shirt, blue jeans, his diamondback snakeskin belt and his brown hiking shoes. Strangely, he showed no signs of significant wounds, just that ache that had finally quieted to a dull roar. Joybunnies. His clothes were also scratch-free sans their usual wear and tear. Surely if he'd been in a crash he'd have some glass sticking out, some scratches, some tears, something to mark the event. Walking felt horrendous, every bone in his legs aching relentlessly. His hearing was working fine, as the twittering of chickadees could be heard in the distance, melding with the rustling of the leaves. It was a temperate day, probably around 70 Fahrenheit or so by his reckoning.

Coming up to his backpack he swiped up his jacket in frustration, muttering to himself with a venomous tone, "What a way to wake up; no clue where I am, no indication of WHAT the flying Hell happened..." Rooting through the contents of his pockets—both of his jacket and his pants—he began taking note of all the contents: Wallet? Check. Phone? Check. MP? Check. Minisketch? Check. Pocket knife? Check. Watch? Check. Battery pack and chords? Check.

"Everything's accounted for," he mused to the nothingness, "Now let's check the pack."

Inside the pack, however, things took an odd turn. Strangely, his large sketchpad and respective pencils were inside with it, along with a couple of his books. No sign of my damn laptop, but that's probably for the better, he despondently acknowledged. There were other items that he didn't recognize, ones he had never owned before. Alongside his other books were a few that he didn't own, including one he could swear bore the insignia of an Eye he was all too familiar with. Strangely he found several of his Warhammer minis in amidst them, intact and unscathed. His Inquisitor and his retinue, his Marine Chapter Master, his Lady Commissar and a few others. _Odd,_ he pondered, _What are you doing here?_

Rummaging into the bottom though stopped his heart cold as he felt the cold touch of gunmetal.

 _...There's a gun in my pack_ , he admonished, _Why do I have a gun in my pack?_

Yanking the weapon from his pack and into the light, he was caught surprised by the design In his hand. _Bersa, .380 ACP,_ he noted in his head _, looks like CC mags. 7 rounds a pop, I think, or was it 8? No, wait, it's 7._ Only then did it click in his mind that the gun was not a standard gunmetal grey. _That's odd, I don't remember the bronze finish having a navy blue slide, or grip for that matter._

Looking down into the backpack again he found seven more clips, each one loaded to max. About 49 shots, give or take.

"Why the hell would I have that much ammo? Hell, why do I even have this thing!? Is this some cruel prank!?"

Silence.

Groaning to himself he packed up the rest of the gear before moving on to more important subjects.

"What the fuck is going on here..."

His musings remained unanswered. Opting to compartmentalize just as he always has, he picked up the pack and began to move out. At the same time, he swore he heard the notes of a song on the wind, but by the time he would have fully noticed the songs were gone. _Great,_ he mused to himself, _I'm losing my mind_. The pistol found a home on his belt, the barrel tucked into the snakeskin belt he wore, the magazine unloaded with no trouble at all.

"Now, to find out where the hell I'm at..."

* * *

2 hours passed, no sign of anything. No walking paths, no road signs, Hell, no ROADS; wherever he was currently was untapped wilderness. The occasional sounds of birds and beasts echoed about, fueling his antsyness.

You'd figure that there'd be SOMETHING by now, he growled to his mind. The bramble constantly smacking against him was not helping his mood, as by now his legs and arms were sore from the twig-swats they had received. Sure, he worked an outdoorsy manual labor job, but this was not his idea of a morning—or afternoon, rather—so it was imaginable that his anger would boil at this point.

"Must've gotten picked up by some friggin' mountain man or some shit like that, Lord knows whatever it was."

He came to the base of a massive cliff, the eroded face smooth for the most part, as if a river had cleaved the excess rock from their resting place. Above him the afternoon sun smiled warmly—a little too warmly for his taste, he was sweltering in his jacket—and the sky was the most vivid blue he had ever seen. In fact, come to think of it, everything had seemed far more vivid; the trees were a deep green, the earth of the cliffside a rich brown, everything was a vivid color, bright and endearing. This was nothing like his home, everything there drowned out in a sea of scrubland brush and a dull green of the river bosque.

"Well great," he sighed under his breath, "How in the name of The Almighty do I climb this thing?" If the sun had been in a better position—or better yet had he owned a compass—he may have been able to find where he was heading, and even then he'd have to hope there was civilization somewhere on the path. "What I would kill for a GPS right now-"

It hit him like a brick; His phone had a GPS system! Hell, he should've used his phone sooner! Surely he hadn't wasted all the charge so early in the morning? Pulling out the phone, his hopes were dashed in an instant.

No bars. No WiFi. _Sonuvabitch._

A rumble from under his feet grabbed his attention away from his phone. _The hell, was that an earthquake? Nah, too short, no way that could be._

He soon turned back around to look at his phone, cursing the poor machine out for not being able to find a signal. Sitting on the nearest rock, he tinkered with the settings as much as he could before the battery alerted him to having dropped below 50%. _Fuck,_ he muttered in his mind, _gotta save battery_. The sun had finally begun to set, yet for all it was worth something felt... off.

It was if the shadows of the forest were longer than they should have been.

The hair on his back prickled, that ancient fight-or-flight instinct desperately clawing for a grip on his mind. _I should probably get up top, like yesterday,_ his mind instructed itself. "Yeah, yeah, g-good idea, me."

After another half hour of testing the rocks, falling down the cliff onto his ass, and then dragging himself back up the same way, he managed to clamor his way atop the cliff.

"Well now," he said, exhausted with the test befallen upon himself in that last half hour, "time to find a tree and climb it... How in the name of God am I gonna do that..."

It was nightfall before he had found a tree stable enough and tough enough to take the strain of his 155-pound body. Settling into the crook of the tree, he set his backpack into his lap and fished about for his Malleus Inquisitor, spotting his red and black hood and cape and the massive Terminator pauldron on his left arm. He chuckled to himself, as always pleasantly surprised by how well his model conversion had worked; He had created the Inquisitor from a Dark Angel Interrogator-Chaplain, kitbashing a Grey Knight arm and Force Sword where the fancy beating stick known as the Crozius Arcanum was supposed to be wielded.

"Well buddy, looks like we got ourselves in an interesting predicament," he muttered to the plastic soldier. _As usual_ , he cursed himself, _talking to inanimate people just to hear myself talk. Oh how the Funny Farms would LOOOVE me._

Thumping the back of his head against the trunk of the tree in frustration led the way for another ache—this time from his skull. _Stupid is as stupid does_. But now was not the time for mental berating. Sleep for a few hours, get up at first light, find civilization, then he could beat himself up.

Looking through his pack again, he continued to scour through everything inside; Somehow it was as if the inside of the bag was ever so slightly larger than the outside. _Now I know I'm losing it._

"Let's see, gotta be something in here. Sketchpad's in here, that's good. _The Art of War'_ s in here, that's nice of whoever; I can re-read it for the 10th time. Bible's in here, good, now I can pray my way outta this mess. Heh. No laptop, no Nook, no DS, no PSP, no electronics beside my phone, and I can't even call anyone. There's the... RWBY Steelbox; not really helpful here, thank you whoever. Oh, wait! There is a little Blu-Ray player... that's got no battery. Fuck. Come on, there's gotta be something in here I can use—and hopefully something to eat..."

With nothing better to do and frustration at the lack of edibles gnawing at his patience, out came his sketchpad, the mechanical pencil clinging to the ringlets of the paper to avoid falling into the cluttered clusterfuck of the inside of the pack. Flipping through the pages he came to the project he had left off on earlier.

It was a basic pencil sketch, but the concept was where the merit lied; a crowded charge across no-man's land, as figures of many shapes and sizes careened their way towards an advancing mass of shadows. Maws, teeth, claws, fur, horns and more erupted from those shadows, thrashing wildly before the charging forces, a dirty and ragged banner of a red snarling wolf flying menacingly overhead. The chargers, however, appeared more regal, majestic in their design. In the background three massive armored men towered over the battlefield, their faces contorted with determination. The largest screamed of might, his massive mane of hair billowing in the breeze in the shadow of titanic wings as his equally-massive glaive extended before him, seeking purchase in the shadows as he stared them down with a single glowing eye. The second was clad in mighty armor, patterns of swirls and flames dancing across his armor. In his extended hand a mighty sword, wreathed in flame that drove back the shadows—both literally and figuratively—lighted the path ahead. From behind the second figure a third came screaming forth—equal in size to the second—his massive armor lined with the furs of animals, a wolf's head sitting upon his left shoulder. In his hand a colossal axe, the sharpened teeth on it telling of a chainsaw blade. He was elderly looking yet there was an edge to his eyes, one that told of countless battles and untold horrors. At their feet ran hundreds of soldiers, some in basic infantry gear, rifles and bayonets flashing in the dimmed light of the smoky battlefield. Others towered over the infantrymen, their massive frames and armor telling of kinship with the titans that rallied them to battle. Blood drops with wings, upside down omegas, Ouroboroses, snarling wolves, winged swords, black fists encased in a ring, ravens perched atop blood drops and more decorated the pauldrons, each one drawn to the artist's best attempts at accuracy. Yet they were not the focus of the picture, as numerous and intimidating as they were.

Nay, the focus laid directly center stage, a contingent of 8 warriors charging head first into the fray, the Sun's only rays permeating the smoke and beaming brightly upon them. At the lead was a little girl, her red cape and black dress fluttering in the wind, rose petals dancing in her wake. In her hand was a mighty scythe, mechanical and soaked in inky blackness in blooded splatter patterns. To her side was a young man, his armor of pure white gleaming brightly as the Sun shone above and onto the plates of his armor. In his hand he held a simple sword and shield, though the sword was raised high in defiance, his face seething with fury. On the girl's flank were 3 more; a maiden dressed in pure white, armed with a simple rapier, a glowing titan striding forth alongside the group created with her power. Another one, long hair—practically a lion's mane—burning brightly, her fists pounded together, a smile of mirth plastered on her face. And another, clad in black, feline ears peeking above her raven hair, twin blades in hands, pouncing from above the group. Behind the young man came 2 others, a man of raven hair, twin pistols with sickle-like blades jutting out were raised in his hands, steely cool in his eyes. By him was a maiden of short bright hair, a menacing, toothy grin etched in her face as she rushed forward to introduce her comically-oversized hammer with the legions of the abyss. And above the smaller group flew an angel, her armor shimmering in the light of the Sun. A spear and shield were her weapons, her hair billowing in the wind as she flew above the knight, almost as though she watched over him in particular.

She was supposed to have a face of peace and calm, but he had not completed it. Life's not a very fair bastard when it comes to time management.

"Well, Pyrrha," he said with a resigned sigh, "I suppose I should finish your picture. Can't have an angel without her face if I'm gonna post this on Reddit," he chuckled. The click of a pencil set him to work.

All the while—hidden by the cover of thick foliage—the light of a fractured moon shined overhead...

* * *

 **Next Chapter, I stumble into trouble... and meet up with our heroes...**


	2. Hungry Like the Beowolf

**Chapter 2: Hungry Like the Beowolf**

 _"When you're cornered, there are two things you can do: Move or Fight._ " _-Josh Fox_

* * *

"...No...no, please... Miles, we've suffered enough...don't kill them... Nora... Ren... YANG!"

He bolted awake, heart pounding in his chest, seeking an escape route to a less-claustrophobic realm. Sunlight burned his eyes—he always was more of a night owl—making him recoil in his perch.

Right OFF his perch, as a matter of fact.

Amazingly he hit the ground ass-first, the shockwave of the impact sending a cry of pain out his mouth. Fortunately, the pain was more or less momentary as it was more that the initial shock initiated the cry. His backpack and sketchpad came tumbling down after him, the pack almost hitting the ground unceremoniously had he not scrambled to his feet to catch it. The sketchpad was not so lucky, but being paper was a fortuitous boon for it.

"Note to self, strap myself to the branch next time. Fucking A..."

It took 3 minutes give or take for him to get back on his feet, the pain mostly gone and the early morning adrenaline surplus well and used. Even then his stomach growled in anger, the lack of food over the last 12 hours or so more than evident; He hadn't skipped a meal since he was a tyke, ignoring lunch on occasion when he was caught up in a book or a movie.

"So, this is what's it's like to starve. Note to self: donate half my next paycheck to the local food bank." As if on queue his stomach roared again, seeking out sustenance in some form. Now, he was not a well-versed outdoorsman, so berries and fruits were more than likely out of the question. Certainly there would be some game in this forest; a pistol, as loud as it may be in regards to attracting predators would be very handy in hunting. Then again, despite wanting to go on a hunt, he had never experienced the long crawl of time waiting for a target to make itself known, so he knew he'd fuck up somewhere along the line. "Maybe I'll find something along the way," he grumbled under his breath, though he wondered to himself if he meant that as a grumble or a plea.

Fortunately, his watch was still accessible and accurate; 8:30 in the morning. Normally he would have berated himself for sleeping as long as he did, though now in all honesty he didn't give to shakes of a cherry tree. He'd been hiking about for God knows how long yesterday and by the time he had climbed into that tree he had walked as far as he normally would walk during a Disney trip. Tired didn't begin to describe how he felt by the time he had crawled up there, yet somehow he had avoided falling asleep until he was done with his drawing.

Speaking of which, he scooped up the work-in-progress artwork with a groan of pain. _Heh, I'm getting to be an ol' codger he joked to himself in his mind. I'm 20, I'm not supposed to be complaining about my joints yet_. No biffs to the paper, fortunately, and the impact avoided smudging it in any sense. Closing the sketchpad back up he set to work figuring out his directions. Fortunately, the sun was still at an angle he could figure out a rough estimate of directions, settling on heading north-by-northwest—or at least by his guess.

* * *

A half hour into his hike and he was already about ready to munch down on the nearest animal within arm's reach. Chance of rabies or whatever disease or not, Hunger was his main focus. He had finally reached a spot where the cliffside he had climbed levelled out with the ground, and the forest had thinned out some. He was hungry first and foremost, as he had discovered that his tea tumbler had made it into his pack as well, loaded with a now-cold earl grey brew. With thirst quenched for now he had to keep moving, otherwise he'd never find food, and neither was he likely to find civilization in those circumstances.

It was at this point something in the back of his mind told him to watch his 6.

 _...What's following me? And why does it feel like..._

 _Nothingness._

He about-faced, drawing the pistol from its loose hoster in his belt. 7 shots from a .380 should kill most things, but he wasn't ready to find out how right he was.

But what he did see following him shattered his very reality.

Standing out from the forest he had just passed through, about 50 meters out from his position was a...creature. It was of vaguely lupine design, bipedal, probably stood about 5-6 feet tall at the shoulders, baring teeth as dazzlingly white as ceramic under the midday sun. Massive claws sprung forth from its paws—no, HANDS was the better term by and large—amounting to 5 a limb. Bony protrusions sprung forth from the arms and legs, equally white as the claws and teeth. Its head was covered in a similar carapace, as if it wore the skull of a deformed wolf. But the biggest characteristics of its appearance were two-fold; One, it was pitch-black in color, as if it were shadows coalesced into a singular mass. And reason number two was the glowing blood red eyes gazing into him from behind the armored skull.

To your average person this thing was a demon. Hell, if this were Warhammer it would have been called a daemon and purged by an Inquisitor long ago.

But he was well aware of the creature standing before him.

 _Beowolf._

 _Grimm._

 _RWBY._

Fear gripped his heart with icy embrace as his trigger discipline vanished out the metaphorical window. 2 rounds let fly, seeking purchase in its blackened body. Both missed their mark by feet. _Shit, shit, shit, SHIT, What the actual flying fuck_ , his mind screamed to the heavens as his terror began to overcome him. Backpedalling seemed like the logical thing to do in a scenario like this, even then logic was a very difficult thing to maintain when you're staring down a BEAST THAT SHOULD NOT EXIST.

The Beowolf was charging now, running on all fours like the mangled beast it was, teeth flashing, a wild grin alight its face _oh God it's gonna kill me this is where and how I fucking die oh sweet Jesus-!_

2 more rounds flew loose, one zooming past the beast's head and into a nearby tree, the other glancing off the bony spikes. The Beowolf didn't flinch, it just kept running at him. 20 meters to go, it would reach him in probably 10 seconds if his mental math was correct.

10 seconds at worst to live.

 _Well fuck._

His aim steadied as he lined the shot with the beast's head; clearly it was either inexperienced or it was mindless as it refused to alter course or juke or anything really. Just a forward rush that would leave a Khornate Berserker clapping in delight at the spectacle.

First shot was let loose, the recoil cursing his name and sending the bullet speeding over the Beowolf's head. 5 seconds at best.

He steadied his breath, the fear still making his hand quiver and quake.

4 seconds.

 _Steady on, fucking A steady up, hands..._

3 seconds.

 _Hold... h-hold..._

2 seconds, the red glow threatening to consume his soul.

Let slip the dogs of war.

1 second.

The Beowolf lunged, maw agape and seeking purchase—no doubt in his throat.

The last 2 rounds escaped the chamber at a heartbeat's pace, trailing one another by fractions of a second.

The first careened into the back of the Beowolf's maw, the profane beast's head exploding out the back of its skull. The second bullet by sheer luck found purchase in its left eye, the red glow snuffed out by lead and gunpowder.

The Beowolf was dead before it even realized it.

Unfortunately, however, the beast's body—and by extension the laws of physics—were not aware of the creature's existential destruction, and the beast's body was still flying at him with all the force remaining in its body.

The two made impact, the creature's body colliding with his torso and sending them both flying. The two slammed into the ground with enough force for a nice bout of blinding pain to course through his body, sending a cry of agony through his system. He felt the teeth—or maybe it was the claws—skin the edge of his neck, still looking to kill even in the absence of its consciousness. His world was a mass of black and death and teeth and more.

His world was pain and shadow and bones and fear and _OH GOD SOMEBODY HELP ME GET ME OUT OF HERE FOR FUCK'S SAKE SOMEBODY HELP ME!_

He scrambled out from underneath the corpse, clawing desperately for air and freedom. He managed to squirm free of his own volition before turning back to the body, heart pounding, breath heaving, stomach churning.

After a brief few seconds he let slip a bloodcurdling scream, one he didn't even realize he was holding in.

Sitting in the dirt and grass before him was a corpse of a Beowolf.

A Beowolf. As in the beast of the Grimm from _RWBY._

Something that should NOT, repeat, should NOT exist in reality.

The very idea brought on another bout of screams from his throat for a solid 2 minutes or so. After the initial panic was out of his system by way of his throat, he sat there for what felt like hours staring at the beast, taking every detail so as to remember it for all time. His throat was raw and angry, but his mental priority was on rationalizing what he was seeing.

Not a replica or an animatronic, no fucking way that was an animatronic, too mobile, too agile, too EVERYTHING really... _Am I dreaming? Oh Jesus, am I dead, did I really get the Raw Deal and this is my Purgatory!? No, no, get a hold of yourself shit-for-brains, there has to be a logical explanation..._

He slapped himself in the face, hoping the shock of pain would wake him up, that it was just a regular timber wolf, that he was experiencing hunger-induced hallucinations and he was just losing his mind.

Nope, said the Beowolf's corpse, metaphorically thumbing its nose at him, this is real.

He felt a need to pass out. No way in the Seven Hells he could compartmentalize fast enough what he was seeing while still being awake.

Too bad that Beowolves come in packs of 3 or more. _Well fuck_.

The panic in his heart gripped tighter and tighter. _Run, run, RUN FUCKNUGGET, RUN!_

He bolted onto his feet and made a mad scramble for the trees; just because they have opposable thumbs didn't mean they had the capacity to climb, right? Then again, all info he had on Grimm was kind of buried at the moment by the overriding surge of survival instinct kicking him into overdrive.

He hit the treeline seconds later, the other 2 Beowolves hot on his 6:00. If he didn't get into the foliage right now, he was going to die.

Now if only he wasn't 5'5" and the punchline of a "white guys can't jump" joke.

 _SHITSHITSHITSHIT!_

 _Screw it_ , he decided, _just run!_

And run he did. For all of about 10 seconds before his eyesight caught the silhouettes of the Beowolves attempting to encircle him, a pincer hold if he ever saw one.

Fortunately, he remembered his fair share of movie car chases and dogfights; when one is caught between oncoming enemies trying a Pincer... simply hit the brakes.

He skidded to a halt just as the Beowolves lunged at one another, unable to course-correct in time to not overshoot him. Their heads collided with an audible THUD, both flopping to the ground snout-first. He picked up the pace again, noting that the Wolves were at best out cold, at worst merely stunned. Honestly, he didn't care; in a moment of survival, it was all about how many seconds you could save. Vaulting over the Beowolves, he broke into a full sprint. He didn't hear the Wolves growling; maybe Grimm could be knocked out. If that's the case, what fortune! He looked back behind himself to check if they were still tailing him, part of him hoping that his hunch was right...

Only to trip on something.

A rock, at twig, whatever it was, he was sent tumbling.

He hit the ground with a painful THUD, sending pain through his left arm as it caught the brunt of the impact. He swore he heard a person cry out. Still reeling from the collision, his eyes instinctively retrained on where—or at least where he thought—the Beowolves were. Sure enough, they had both gotten up and were charging him now, the distance between them closing terribly quickly.

It was at this point he remembered he had more magazines for the Bersa.

Shaking like a jumping bean soaked in espresso he pulled a magazine from the side pocket of his pack, clumsily trying to reload. They really had him now, _no way I can kill them both._

 _No way I'm surviving this one._

Clip loaded. _Time to die standing._

Up from the ground he sprung, fear and anger in his eyes, his voice raising and prepared to deliver what he thought were his final words.

"Eat Lead and Die, _lobo!"_

3 rounds escaped their casings, planting themselves in the lead Beowolf before the beast dropped dead.

Yet he had fired only two.

Before he could explain what happened, something went flying past him at ludicrous speeds.

Something gold and red.

Without warning the Beowolf dropped dead, tumbling forward through the inertia of its sprint. Out of its clavicle—or rather his rough guestimate of its clavicle—poked a massive javelin, regal and golden. Red metal gizmos and parts marked the weapon, intricate details adorning the weapon's whole body.

He had seen that before.

It was supposed to have been destroyed when Beacon feel in Season 3.

"...M-m...Miló..." _"Speak"_.

He wheeled around to see who would be crazy enough to wield a fictional character's weapon in a live-or-die scenario like this.

And the world came to a terrifying halt.

Standing about 10 yards out from him were a pair of teens, both at least passing 6' tall. The taller one, the boy, wore a black and orange hoodie and faded blue jeans under what looked like basic armor, not particularly sturdy-looking all things considered. Pale complexion, blonde hair, blue eyes, looked relatively strong in comparison to himself.

And the other... _Oh sweet Merciful Christ-Father Above..._

She was about 6' exact, probably thanks to the heels she wore. Her outfit was a two layer, a light-brown—dare he say leather—strapless top and a v-neck of some kind; Honestly it looked like a very ornate choker to him, but it was probably how much the color of it looked like skin to him. A black miniskirt peaked out, bronze greaves protecting her legs. A drapery of crimson-red adorned her waist, a buckle of some form emblazoned with an arrow piercing a shield holding it up. Black opera gloves covered small but strong hands. Atop her head a bronze-gold circlet adorned her crimson hair done back in a long elegant ponytail.

Emerald green eyes stared back into his dark brown orbs, for a terrifying hot-second he could read her and she could practically read him. What he saw prickled the hair on his back.

 _No... no... it's just a dream, she can't be real, THIS can't be real-_

And then she spoke.

The voice of Jen Brown escaped her mouth, ringing clear in his ears. His heart beating like a wardrum on a charge, his mind overclocking to rationalize what he was seeing, what he was hearing.

Because he was staring at a character that was both fictional... and was supposed to be DEAD.

"Are you alright, sir?" asked Pyrrha Nikos.

* * *

 **Welp, that's chapter 2. Looks like I've just met a ghost... and had my first asskicking from the Grimm.**

 **Chapter 3, Things truly do enter a world of "Bloody Evolution".**

 **(Goddamnit, Yang.)**

 **As usual, reviews are more than welcome around here.**

 **Later**!


	3. Awkward Introductions

**Chapter 3: Awkward Introductions**

 _"The random hand of Fate delivers me to you."-Farseer Taldeer Ulthwé, Warhammer 40000_

* * *

 _Pyrrha Nikos. From RWBY._

 _I saw her die._

 _An arrow in her chest and then incinerated. Poof, Best Girl, gone._

 _And she's right here... in front of me._

 _This HAS to be a dream._

"Sir?"

Her voice snapped him out of his stupor and back into the reality he supposedly was in.

"Huh? O-Oh, sorry, sorry," he replied, trepidation in his tone, "I-I'm fine, Ms... Ms. Nikos..."

Something about that sentence seemed wrong to legitimately come out of his mouth. If words had taste, the words that exited his mouth would taste beyond foreign; like they belonged in another galaxy.

About that time the other kid—Jaune, he realized—came up, his mind almost entirely blanking the boy's existence out. Jaune Arc came running up to the both of them, his forehead drenched with sweat. They must have been hightailing it to wherever—maybe his commotion with the Beowolves had attracted their attention.

"Hey, uh, you okay there buddy?"

"Jaune, I think he's a little shell-shocked at the moment, give him some air."

"Huh? Oh, uh, sorry 'bout that."

"No, no," he replied to them, "I, uh, *ahem*, I definitely didn't have that situation under any form of control."

"It looks like you're okay, nothing too serious on cursory glance," Pyrrha spoke up.

"Yeah, if you don't count the post-adrenaline shakes, I'm pretty damn peachy-keen after all that. Uh, nice javelin toss, by the by."

Pyrrha smiled, a genuine smile of mirth, one that cut through the shock of the moment. "Well, judging by how you used my last name, you already know me."

"Y-yeah, your reputation proceeds you, Ms. Nikos."

His intuition told him that was a bad decision if ever there was one, as Pyrrha's smile seemed to fade ever so slightly, the glimmer of her emerald eyes dimmed ever so as well.

Fuck, right, she doesn't like talking about her fame. Smooth, jackass.

"Hey, the name's Jaune," Jaune introduced himself, extending his hand for a formal handshake, "pleasure to meet you Mr..."

Oh fuck.

One of the first things he remembered about the world of Remnant was how the people after the Great War—which probably had nothing on WW1, he joked about once upon a time—started naming their kids on the basis of colors.

His name did not have the luxury of being easy to convert to a color scheme.

 _Well fuck, how are you gonna change your name into something color-based?_

 _Fuck it, I'll just say it's an heirloom name; technically it is._

"...Jacob. Jacob Muller."

"Well, Mr. Muller," Jaune replied, "there IS safety in numbers. Wanna come with us?"

Jacob's heart about screamed like Ash Williams blowing up an army of skeletons. _**YEAH BABY!**_

"Uh, definitely, definitely. I, uh, well, it's not like I have anyplace better to go."

A small chuckle made its way through the group; Jaune's genuine laugh of amusement, Pyrrha's sweet giggle of bemusement, and Jacob's hearty chuckle—halfway in amusement, halfway in nervousness.

The sound of a shotguns and ursine roars broke up the short but sweet moment.

 _…UNSC M90 Shotgun_ , his head rattled off, _Halo 3 edition._

Yang Xiao Long.

A small grin manifested across his face, too small to be noticeable by Pyrrha and Jaune.

"Sounds like a party going on over there," Jacob affirmed, cracking his knuckles, "Whoever's going nuts with that shotgun must be laying into that beast."

"Sounds like that blonde girl, Ruby's sister," Jaune noted. "Knowing her, shotguns seem up her alley."

"She a firecracker?" _You already know the answer._

"You have no idea."

"Then she's probably fine." _Heh, I_ _feel more sorry for the poor Ursas._

The ursine roars continued, followed in short order by the blasts from Ember Celica, Yang's gauntlets.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Anyway, I guess we're supposed to be finding some kind of Temple of some kind," Jaune said as he began heading the direction of the cliffs, "and I think it might be back that way."

Something clicked in Jacob's mind; cliffsides, Emerald Forest, earthquake last night...

Oh shit.

"Uh, I-I wouldn't go that way, actually," Jacob piped up, concern evident in his inflection. Jaune and Pyrrha both turned, blue and green orbs eyeing him with curiosity. Time to crack out his Storyteller side. "I was passing by those cliffs earlier and I think I remember seeing something heading into the caves that way. A... deathstalker I think they call them?"

"Did it look like a large scorpion?" Pyrrha asked.

"Yeah, yeah, big, fuck-huge, big-ass pincers, long tail, stinger like a damn tank round."

Jaune did a double-take, either because of the mention of the deathstalker or Jacob's swearing. Pyrrha's eyes widened a little as well, though Jacob swore it was the faintest look of surprise. _Note to self, curb your sailor-tongue a little, dipstick._

"Why would they not warn us about something like that? That's quite the obstacle for first-years," Pyrrha reflected.

"Maybe it wasn't spotted...? Honestly, who cares; It's over there, we're over here, let's not poke the scorpion with a stick, OK? And to tell you the truth, I think there's better luck if we head northward. I saw something that looked like a bunch of ruins about north of here, so that's probably your objective." _Please take the hint, please take the hint, I'm in no mood to be shish-kebabed by Pulmonoscorpius' big brother..._

"Huh, that could be the temple," Jaune piped up. Ha-hah, the noodle-head has a smart moment!

"...I suppose it would be the safer bet," Pyrrha reluctantly agreed. Something in the back of Jacob's mind told him that she might have been... Anticipating the fight? Nah, can't be.

"Well come on, let's not wait for the glaciers to melt!" Jacob let slip a nervous but bemused chuckle as he began to trek towards the Temple and by extension the commotion of Yang's fight. Jaune and Pyrrha glanced aside at one another before deciding to follow this... unusual individual.

* * *

Jaune couldn't make heads or tails of this... gentleman, if he could really call him that. Even in comparison to himself he seemed to exude a sense of—as it were—being where he really shouldn't be. _No armor, a dinky pistol, swears like a sailor, if this guy's a Beacon student, then my name is Johann... and it's not._

"Ah! Son of a bi- uh... biscuit-weaver," Muller cried out as a low-hanging oak branch snapped back in his face, almost failing to curb his tongue in front of them. _Actually, come to think of it..._

"Hey, uh, excuse me, Mr... Muller, right?"

"Huh? Oh, no no, please, Mr. Muller is my dad. Call me Jacob if you don't mind."

"Right, Jacob... I don't recall seeing you yesterday at Professor Ozpin's speech. Were you in the back or something?"

"Uh... Yeah, I kinda tend to hang out near the back. I have a habit of rolling solo on most things."

"I also remember not seeing you on the pads for the initiation."

A pregnant pause. _Caught you red-handed._

"...Okay, okay, you caught me, I'm not a Beacon student. I, uh, I kinda woke up here in the forest yesterday morning. I honestly don't know how the hell I got here anyhow; Last thing I remember was heading to work, but... even that doesn't seem right."

It was Pyrrha who was first to inquire about his predicament. "Civilians should not have access to the Emerald Forest, especially just before an event like this. How on Remnant did you not get noticed?"

Muller scoffed bemusedly, "If you really thought I had the answer, do you think I'd be still be here? Professor Ozpin was either too busy to give a flying fu-uh, feather, or he decided to let me be here as a variable to the initiation or somethin'. "

Jaune felt the scathing snark of the comment even if Muller wasn't looking back at him directly. _Geez, what's he got against Professor Ozpin?_ _Got snubbed out of attending or something?_

"Regardless," Muller continued, "I'm here now, might as well roll with it; Sure, I don't have a fancy metamorphosing weapon like Ms. Nikos has, but this baby," he flashed his pistol with a bemused grin as he looked back at them, "I feel will get me far."

 _He's absolutely out of his mind._

Just at that moment, Muller's demeanor suddenly whiplashed; His smile dropped of the radar and an eyebrow arched up as he looked back to the path ahead of him. He stopped in his tracks, looking up into the treeline, as if expecting something to pop out and attack.

"Wait a sec," he whispers, "Anyone else notice something?"

The silence was deafening.

Silence.

Uh oh.

Before Jaune could say anything, Muller had taken off in a mad dash towards where the fighting in theory had been. Pyrrha was hot on his heels, leaving Jaune to look like the fool in the dust. "Hey, wait for me!"

It wasn't too hard to catch up with them, especially Muller. He was huffing and puffing violently, though the look in his eyes said that he really didn't care that his lungs were running on fumes. _Geez, this guy is definitely not cut out for Huntsman training. Then again, I'm one to talk._

It didn't take them long to reach a small clearing, where the obvious signs of battle were everywhere; Dust cartridges scattered about, deep claw marks in the ground and trees, a couple trees outright torn from their roots.

And amidst the grass, a single golden strand of hair proudly laid amidst the sea of green.

"Look around... for any... signs of her," Muller wheezed out, his lungs trying to play catch up. They each took to clues of their own accord, Jaune and Pyrrha investigating the trees while Muller investigated the battleground itself. After a few minutes, they had come to a relative agreement of where Blondie had taken off to.

It didn't take long for them to find Blondie, though. Or, rather, for Blondie to find them.

"Gangway!"

Jaune had just enough time to see her scream by, a mild look of annoyance evident upon her face.

And following hot on her trail was a pair of Ursa, big enough to bat Jaune's upper torso off in one good clean swing.

 _Oh boy, just our luck._

Out came Crocea Mors, the antiquated blade of the Arc family; as old as it was, the sun danced off the blade, as if it was happy to see the sword unsheathed for battle. Pyrrha skidded in front of him, Miló and Akoúo̱ proudly gleaming in the morning light. Pyrrha herself remained steely in the face of their newcome adversaries. The click of a gun hammer informed them of Muller's status, along with the distinctive clink of a pocket knife.

"Ugh, seriously, a pocket knife? You brought a pocket knife to fight Grimm?"

The dejected annoyance in Muller's tone said more than the actual words he said. "Just shut up and kill something."

Pyrrha took to the fight as a fish to water, launching herself at the lead Ursa. Jaune hesitated only to see Muller run up to his left side and take a knee. "Get some, fuckers," he snarled as he started emptying a clip into the second Ursa. Jaune wasted no time trying to help Pyrrha, but found that he was more than lacking in capacity to fight it. For every 10 of Pyrrha's strikes, Jaune maybe landed 2 or so, dancing around the ursine Grimm to find a critical opening. But the Ursa just wouldn't let its guard down. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Muller backpedalling away from the second Ursa, firing desperately into its face.

The lead Ursa nearly took his head off while he was mentally occupied. "Geez!"

"Go help Mr. Muller," Pyrrha cried out in the middle of a backflip over the Ursa's head, "I've got this one."

"Uh, honestly I think he's alright, he was doing a good job of- yikes!" Jaune nearly lost his head again as the Ursa lashed out wildly seeking some form of purchase. "I-I think he's doing-"

"AAAARHH!"

Muller's voice rang out behind them, a cry of a wounded animal just struck by a predator. Jaune whipped around to find out what happened.

The Ursa had Muller pinned on the ground, its teeth sunken deep into Muller's left arm—his gun arm, Jaune noticed—and the knife in his right hand was desperately stabbing into the Ursa's jugular. Tears of pain were evident in Muller's eyes, his face contorted in an animalistic snarl as he tried to break free. The Ursa had been trying to go for his face, and it was obvious Muller had moved his arm up to protect his head from the beast's maw. He cried out each time the Ursa tugged, seeking to tear flesh from bone. Blood was starting to run profusely from the wounded limb: Muller's face was covered with his own, his white shirt splattered with crimson. The Ursa's lips were stained with it as well, to match its glowing eyes. He tried to land a few more stabs, but the Ursa had other plans, dragging Muller along for a few yards before tossing him into a nearby tree. Muller's back hit the trunk with a agonizing-sounding thud, the yell from his throat indicative of the excruciating pain he was in. Fortunately, the impact was cushioned by the massive backpack he wore.

Jaune felt sick to his stomach, but rushed the Ursa as it maintained its focus on Muller. He managed to land a good strike in the Ursa's neck, nearly severing its head from its shoulders. _Where the heck did that come from_ , he admonished the sudden boost in his strength. _Was that my Aura?_

He turned his attention back to Muller, but his stomach churned at the sight. He was bleeding profusely, 6 decent-sized holes in his arm where the blood was escaping. Muller was starting to look pale and his breathing was shallow, already the shock of the attack was setting in and the blood loss compounding atop that. "Jesus Tapdancing fuck, the fucker got me good, didn't he," Jacob shakily said through gritted teeth. "Hey, all warriors get scars eventually, right?"

* * *

Jacob was not in the best mental state at the moment. Shock was seeking to envelop his mind and he had never been formally introduced to it before. That level of pain was unheard of to his body, setting a nice new threshold in his mind for maximum pain a body can receive. He was bleeding out like a stuck pig, and effectively his gun arm was out of commission at the moment. If another Grimm attacked him—and no doubt the negative emotion would catch their attention—he was guessing he had 100 to 1 chances of getting out alive. Oh, wait, Jaune was there. 90 to 1, in that case.

Even then, that was if he didn't bleed out in the next few minutes.

"Fucking A, that's not good," he said as he looked down at his mangled arm. As painful as it was to move, most of the motion was still available.

"Hey," came a feminine voice, "You guys ok?"

"Oh yeah, obviously, you can tell by my arm bleedin-"

Jacob's angered sarcasm stopped cold at the sight of raven hair and amber eyes. She wore a black buttoned vest over a white sleeveless high-neck undershirt, white shorts and high black stockings covered up her long legs. Atop her head, a cute black bow, hiding Faunus cat ears. _Blake_ , he gasped in his mind. The two locked eyes and for a split second they could read one another like an open book. But before either of them could get a good mental glance, the connection was severed by the sound of Yang looping back around to meet up with them, Ember Celica roaring the whole way down to the ground.

A mane of golden hair was the first thing Jacob saw of Yang Xiao Long; then again, besides that amazing personality of hers, it was one of her most noticeable features. She was grinning ear to ear, obviously having the time of her life. _It's Yang, stupid_ , he berated himself, _she could get her ass kicked and still come out with that goofy grin plastered on her face._

 _Yeah_ , a part of himself replied, _unless you lop off her right arm halfway down._

Yang's smile dropped suddenly as she took notice of Jacob. "Yikes, what happened?"

Jacob felt like a annoyed retort was wanting to worm its way out, but all he could muster was a weaker-than-normal, "Your Ursa buddies... decided to give me my first set o' combat scars. Here I am hoping these aren't the last."

Pyrrha had finally come over, obviously having no trouble taking down the ursine Grimm. "Is everyone okay, I thought I heard—Oh my stars, Mr. Muller!"

"Ah, fret not," he shakily spoke, doing his best at a British accent, "'Tis but a flesh wound!" He tried to laugh, but he was finding laughing to be a lot more energy consuming than previously.

"Why didn't your Aura protect you!?"

"...I, uh... well, uhm..." _Shit, Aura. I don't have one. Hell, can I even unlock one?_

"He must've used his up when he fought those Beowolves," Jaune concluded.

"Yes, exactly! That's exactly what happened..." _That noodle-head just spared me another awkward reveal._

It was Blake who came up to him, urgency in her step. She took a knee and began to reach for Jacob's shirt. "Hang on, I've made makeshift bandages before," she asserted, punctuating her point by ripping off the lower 4 inches of cloth from the shirt.

"Hey, that was my favorite shirt!"

"Yeah, well it'll be the one you're buried in if we don't get that wrapped up, so shut up and let me wrap it."

Blake's retort was scathing, silencing Jacob with no chance of him responding in kind. She worked with amazing speed, bandaging the wounded limb within a minute. Jacob was trying to figure out where she would have gained the knowledge to wrap a wound so efficiently. Then it hit him, almost as harshly as the Ursa's attack.

 _Oh, right. White Fang protests._

In the back of his mind he noticed that sense of tire and shock had lessened dramatically, leaving him while still somewhat winded but still able to get up and fight. _The hell?_ He eyed Blake with curiosity, only to notice a dark outline had encircled her body, licking at his arm where the wounds were.

"...Wait, what?"

"I used some of my Aura to reduce the shock, dummy. You should be good to go while we're out here, but you're gonna need to have that looked at when we get back to Beacon."

. _..I don't recall that being a thing in the show,_ Jacob questioned to himself, _No one ever did anything like that. Blake's Semblance is Shadow Clone Jutsu 2.0, not healing. What gives?_

"I didn't know that was a thing you could do with Aura."

"What do you mean, Huntsmen use it all the time in the field to help civilians when they've been attacked."

"Uh, right. Thank you... Ms. Belladonna."

Blake had been securing the bandage when he said that, and her surprise was more than evident when she started and tightened the bandage down to an uncomfortably tight grip. Jacob grunted in surprise in turn, the pain flaring up immensely.

"How do you know my name?" Blake asked, the slightest edge of fear mingling with malice in her voice. _She's afraid I'm a Fang operative. Shit_.

"I, uh, I met your parents a while back when I visited your hometown with my family; Kali and Ghira, right?"

Blake looked as though she was holding in the urge to retreat or strike out at him. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Gambol Shroud, the blackened blades gleefully glinting in the sun. "I, uh, just recognized you by your resemblance to your mother." He flung a quick wink at her to attempt let her know he was aware of her secret, but avoided trying to make it seem malicious.

Miraculously, Blake got the message, eyes widening ever so slightly in surprise, though she did seem to relax a little afterwards. "Ah, I see..."

"Well, enough of that," Jacob affirmed, leaning back against the tree for leverage. "I don't know—argh—about you guys, but I wanna get out of this forest before we get any more predators on our Six." He moved to pick up his pistol, an ungodly twinge of pain shrieking its way up his arm. Had it been any other day he probably would've shaken it off, or ignored it outright; today, however, it was enough to make his legs buckle underneath him. He took a knee, saving himself from meeting the ground face first, only to look up and find himself kneeling before Pyrrha. Had someone taken a picture at that exact moment, it would have looked as though a knight were kneeling before his queen in reverence. A slight tinge of red coated his face in embarrassment as he forced himself upright and back onto his feet. "Alright, enough lollygagging. Let's find this temple before I bleed out."

And under his breath, echoing in his mind in unison, he muttered, "Talk about a damn-fine dream; beats my usuals by a thousand leagues..."

* * *

 **Well, that went about as well as expected; I'm bleeding like a stuck pig, I've made iffy first-impressions, and part of me still thinks this is a dream. Also, AU powers; Not overly-powerful, the idea is a basic healing boost, only enough to slow bleeding/halt shock in its tracks.**

 **Next chapter, I meet a Rose, I get my ribcage crushed by Fem!Thor and I make Poe jokes out the ass. Fun times ahead.**

 **Reviews are welcomed with open arms, and I hope to catch you... in the next chapter. Buh-Bye~!**


	4. Players and Pieces

**WARNING: This is a LONG chapter. I won't do long chapters like this all the time, I will mainly use them for longer episodes in the show, such as Players and Pieces (The episode this chapter is pretty much a retelling of. )**

 **That being said, enjoy~!**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Players and Pieces**

 _Battle is the most magnificent competition in which a human being can indulge. It brings out all that is best; it removes all that is base._ _\- General George S. Patton_

* * *

After the initial surprise of the attack had worn off, Jacob had declared that formal introductions were in order; The handshake shared with Blake was more or less almost of a diplomatic nature, with the two acting in a pleasant manner as Blake attempted to read him and he in turn attempted to pry open the enigma of her mind. Yang's, however, was polar opposite, with her warm and truly endearing smile acting in contrast to the fact that she was practically crushing his pint-sized hand in her grip, even though hers were only slightly larger than his own; It was if his hand had been squeezed under a boulder the size of a suburban. Jacob's hand was left aching afterwards as he had barely suppressed a croak of pain. After informing them of what had transpired previously, the partners decided to join up with the trio in their hunt for the ruins. By now they had walked for a solid half-hour, Jacob leading this makeshift pack forward through the forest to their destination, and—with any hope—away from the rest of the Grimm populace in the ruddy place. While Pyrrha maintained a close second in pace behind him, with Jaune tagging along behind them as if he were a lost pup and Yang merrily strolling along behind them, Blake had decided to hang back a bit to mull about her thoughts for a bit, or at least that seemed to be what he believed by what he read of her body language. That last bit made Jacob sweat under the collar perhaps a little too much for his taste.

 _Okay, so, I've met the B and Y in RWBY and the J and P in JNPR. That only leaves Ren and Nora, he mentally noted, and Ms. Schnee and Ruby herself._ But before he could comment further, Yang once again interrupted him.

"Hey, short-stuff," Yang cheerily shouted from behind him, obviously trying to get his attention. If she was also looking to get a rise out of him, she was doing a pretty good job thus far; He did not like others referring to how short he was. Only he himself could make fun of his height.

"Ms. Xiao Long, please call me Jacob," he sighed, the tire from this long day starting to slow his pace.

"Only if YOU stop calling me "Ms. Xiao Long"," she replied back, putting emphasis on her name with an effective mockery of a snooty inflection.

"...Fair enough, Yang. Now, what were you gonna ask me?"

"I was just wondering, why hasn't your Aura started kicking in? It should have started replenishing by now, right?"

"Uh, that's..." Jacob struggled to cover his tracks, knowing that if they knew he didn't have an awakened Aura they may waste time trying to unlock his in the middle of a dangerous AO. Hell, who knows if he even had one; he was from Earth, Terra, The Third Rock From The Sun—whatever you wanted to call it—not Remnant. They knew of the existence of the Soul here, while Humanity back home questioned the very existence of the it, whether it was just a construct of our sentience. "That's actually a good question... but I think it's better if we focus on our task at hand; 'Eyes on the prize, not the horizon'," he quipped while his mind self-congratulated being able to slip the usage of a Skyrim quote into a conversation.

"Her point is fair," came the mumbling of Blake, still locked in mental pondering but loud enough to be heard by everyone present.

"Regardless, we have an objective to reach. Don't get me wrong, it's a valid question, but I'm more focused on, you know, not getting eaten." His stomach roared defiantly, making its point known to the entire crew. "And, maybe, getting something to eat."

It was another 10 minutes before they reached the small clearing that housed the Forest Temple. Just as he remembered it, it was a large circular ornate structure that vaguely reminded him of Stonehenge. The center tiles formed an ornate design of stone, reminiscent of a flower, only the gray of rock instead of something more lively.

"That must be it, right?"

"Pretty certain, Mr. Arc. Unless you see another ruin of an ancient temple nearby."

Jacob caught the sight of Jaune rolling his eyes in exasperation out of the corner of his vision.

"I wonder what they were talking about in regards to the relic? I can't see anything up here that would be a candidate," Pyrrha inquired over Jacob's left shoulder. Jacob smirked to himself in smug satisfaction.

"Well, we ain't gonna find out standing up here twiddling our thumbs, right?" He let out a small chuckle as he began to approach the Temple. The hill they were atop was mildly steep, but nothing he hadn't climbed down during the few times he had gone hiking in his whole life.

Approaching the Temple, Jacob spotted the "relics" that were so integral in the first place; the chess pieces that would mark the teams. Two sets of each piece, but already some pieces were missing. _Well, I've already fucked with canon, let's hope that it won't Butterfly Effect out too far._

"Chess pieces?" Blake questioned as she walked up to the black king piece, eyeing it with curiosity. Across the way, Yang strolled up and scanned about at the rest of the pieces. "Some of them are missing; looks like we weren't the first ones here." Jacob nodded in faux agreement, hoping that things would play out according to his memory... or, at least to the degree possible under the current scenario.

As expected, Blake figured it out first. "Well, I guess we should pick one." _There's that sense of déjà vu, except for once I know where its coming from._

"How about a cute little pony?" Jacob turned to see Yang had picked up the Gold—or was it technically white—Knight, raising it high in triumph. "Sure," Blake sighed with an emphasizing eye roll.

 _And the canon remains. Hallelujah._

"I'm surprised more people haven't found this place," Jacob muttered in bemusement.

"Yeah, it's not like this place is very difficult to find," Blake replied

Jaune and Pyrrha walked up next, looking about at the rest of the pieces and trying to choose which one they wanted. _Please pick the Gold Rook, please pick up the Gold Rook, please pick up the Gold Rook..._

The Gold Rook was lifted off its pedestal by means of Jaune, as he and Pyrrha shared a smile. Behind them, a smile crept onto Muller's face as well.

His mind quickly turned to more pressing matters. _Now, where on Earth are Ren and Nora? And for that matter, where are Weiss and—_

"HEADS UP!"

Jacob had just enough time to hear the cry and look up when he saw someone falling out of the sky at speeds closing in on terminal velocity. Someone clad in a red and black dress.

"Ruby!" Yang shouted in distress, Jacob almost following suit only to bite his tongue to conceal his charade at least just a little bit longer. His bite must've broken the skin of his tongue; he could swear that he tasted blood.

"I've got her," he shouted as he tried to intercept her trajectory, backpedaling in desperation to intercept Ruby's landing. But before he could try to catch her, Yang had taken to the air, Ember Celica roaring as she launched into the air to catch her sister. They met about 40 feet up, Yang effortlessly catching her baby sister and descending back to earth within the span of seconds. If he had blinked, he would probably have missed the whole thing. Behind him he swore he heard Blake ask something along the lines of, "Did her sister just fall out of the sky?" but he was too preoccupied with watching Yang coddle her baby sister.

"Ruby, are you ok? What happened, are you hurt, did you get attacked—"

"Yang," Jacob called out to her running up to the two of them, "give her some air! Poor girl just fell from... 100 feet up, give or take."

"Yang," came the tiny voice of Ruby Rose, "I'm fine! Really!" It was enough to get Yang to back off on her hug, allowing Jacob to get in close to check up on her; Sure, he had no training with first aid, but even then he had a habit of picking up little details here and there, and that included even the most miniscule scrapes.

Coffee brown eyes met silver eyes and Jacob felt what he could swear was a twinge of shock. He had never expected to see natural silver irises in another human being, but Ruby's eyes... in person they were striking. Scarily striking. He fought the urge to stare, instead stretching out his arm to help her up. "Need a hand?"

"Oh, uh, thanks," Ruby responded weakly, obviously nervous about the newcomer. Hoisting her up on her feet, it only just registered that she was a mere 5'2" to his 5'5". For once, he was taller than someone else, something that bemused him to no end. _Heh, for once, I'm not the shorty around here_.

"Uh, my name's Ruby," she said weakly, "what's, uh, what's yours?"

"Name's Jacob. I, uh, I'm kinda not supposed to be here, I guess... civilian and all that."

"Oh. Well, I... Wait," Ruby questioned, "If you're a civie, how did you get here?"

"Uhm, honestly? Not a Godforsaken clue. Just kinda... woke up in the forest yesterday, no idea how I got here... Heheh."

"Well, I—" Ruby was cut short as the sounds of an Ursa roaring set everyone to attention.

It sprung out from the woods, roaring and thrashing about for all of a solid 3 seconds before toppling to the ground, dead as a coffin nail, all the while a resounding "Yeehaw!" Came screaming up from behind it. Without a word, Muller leashed his slowly-diminishing temper as the final two members of JNPR came into view.

"Aww, it's broken," Nora Valkyrie lamented as she stood atop the dead ursine nuisance. _Now I remember why Nora kicks ass: You can't help but smile at her antics._

Up from behind the Ursa, obviously having been forced to keep up on foot, came the tall form of Lie Ren, panting and trying to catch his breath. "Nora... please... don't ever do that again." A sliver of sadness lodged itself into Jacob's heart as he heard that voice. It was a voice that previously he had never taken note of, not until its owner's untimely passing from unfortunate circumstances. The voice of Monty Oum.

At that second, however, his mind suddenly noticed that Nora had disappeared from atop the Ursa. It didn't take Jacob much longer than a second to realize where she was. Looking over his shoulder he saw her swipe the other Gold Rook in her hand. _Success,_ He muttered in his mind.

"I'm queen of the castle, I'm queen of the castle..." Nora hummed merrily before Ren cried out for her. She giggled and skipped over to him, calling out, "Coming, Ren!"

"Did that girl just ride in on an Ursa?"

"Yes, Ms. Belladonna," Jacob chuckled, "She just rode in on an Ursa. I like her already."

That caught Nora's attention, as she bolted up to within his personal bubble; Not a good idea under normal circumstances, but he'd allow it.

"Well, hello there!" Nora practically sang. "I don't remember meeting you before!"

"Uh, hi, I'm Jacob,"He responded with a meek wave. He was expecting her to be exuberant, but this was almost too much. He also wasn't expecting to be given a rib-crushing bear hug; Even more so was his surprise when the little 5'1" girl practically hoisted him up in the hug. _JESUS CHRIST, What does she use for weights when she benches, Land Raiders!?_

"Hey, I appreciate the friendly hug," he wheezed, "but you're starting to crush my ribcage."

"Oops, sorry!" Nora promptly dropped him, though fortune had him landing on his feet instead of on his ass again.

Muller's bemusement was short lived, as he suddenly felt heat radiating from his left side. Yang was starting to look more than a little annoyed at the impromptu interruptions. "Okay, can everyone just chill out for like 5 seconds so we can get our bearings?"

"Uh, Yang," Ruby interjected, pointing skywards. Yang hung her head in defeat while Jacob's eyes followed the invisible line to where she was pointing at.

Up above them some 200 or so feet in the air, Weiss Schnee was clinging for dear life onto the back talon of a massive Nevermore. "Once upon a midnight dreary," Jacob muttered in awe at the titanic beast overhead; its wings had to at least clear 60, 70 feet in length.

"How could you leave me?" Weiss shouted, her voice barely reaching their ears.

"I said, 'jump'!" Ruby lamented to her new partner.

"She's gonna fall," Blake flatly said.

"She'll be fine."

"She's falling," Ren affirmed. Sure enough, the Nevermore had shaken her loose, sending her plummeting to the ground below.

"I got her, I got her," Jacob shouted, running to catch her. He once again attempted to course correct, desperately trying to line up his interception.

By sheer miracle, her trajectory met up with him, and he managed to catch her in his arms, the raw newtons laid bear to his body forcing him to take a knee. His arms strained heavily against dropping her, made evident by the protesting groan that escaped from behind clenched teeth. "Fire and damnation," he hissed under his breath, "This was a stupid-ass idea."

He looked up at his cargo, and for a split second the two made eye contact before Weiss squirmed out of his hold, catching him across the chin with her elbow and sending him sprawling backwards.

"Hands off, creep!"

"I believe 'thank you' would be in order for saving you from meeting the ground ass-first," Jacob spat back at Weiss with a tone of annoyance. If there was one character he couldn't stand in Seasons 1 and 2, it was Weiss. Arrogant, spoiled, she hadn't yet grown into her more compassionate side until Season 3.

Weiss sighed heavily, a groan of disgust hiding within. "Fine, thank you, Mister..." A sentence loaded with sarcasm if he'd ever heard one.

"Muller. Jacob Muller."

"Right, Mr. Muller. Once again," Weiss said with the hint of sarcasm far more detectable in her tone, "Thank you for saving me from that fall."

Jacob would have retorted with a witty comeback had it not been for the sudden thunderous shaking from beneath his feet. Turns out, even with avoiding the cave, that Deathstalker was itching for a scrap; It had actively sought them out. The supersized scorpion burst forth from the treeline, its bone-white pincers looking to alleviate flesh from bone. Muller and Schnee retreated back to the group at full sprint.

"Great, the gang's all here; now we can all die together," Yang sarcastically shouted out, grabbing their attention.

"Not if I can help it!"

Muller's mind snapped to attention. _Oh no_.

Ruby let out the cutest war cry he had ever heard and rushed the beast. Crescent Rose thundered as the recoil of the sniper rifle launched her forward, the scythe-rifle's wicked blade unfolding to cut the extra large arachnid asunder.

The Deathstalker had more canonical plans, swinging its claw at her to halt her charge. The claw connected, sending her tumbling to the ground.

"...D-don't worry," Ruby shakily called out, "totally fine!"

 _That's a lie if I've ever heard one_ , Muller groaned in his mind as she began backpedaling away from the supersized bug.

 _Now comes the Nevermore feathers..._

Right on queue, the Nevermore screamed overhead, thrusting its wings forward and sending a flurry of feathers screaming towards Ruby. Yang had taken off like a bat out of hell, her Big Sister Instinct kicking into overdrive, obviously. Fortunately the barrage missed them both...

Or rather that would have been the case, had one feather not managed to snag Ruby's cape.

"Ruby, get out of there!" Yang cried out.

"I'm trying!"

The Deathstalker had caught up with her, the massive barb on its tail swinging high and looking to find purchase in her torso. Muller's pistol was loosed from his belt as he began a mad charge at the beast. Hopefully he'd actually get close enough to empty a few rounds into the creature to draw its attention from Ruby. "Hey, ugly! Leave her be, I'm the one you want!"

A flash of white sped past him, and without warning a massive wall of ice sprung up between the Grimm's tail and Ruby, sparing her from a grisly fate.

"You are so childish," Weiss Schnee commented—audible even from where Jacob was—to a still-bracing Ruby. "And dim-witted, and hyperactive, and don't even get me started on your fighting style." Myrtenaster was pulled from the icy platform from which the whole of the wall had formed as Weiss continued to lecture her new partner. "And I suppose I can be a bit... difficult... but if we're going to do this, we're going to have to do this together. So if you quit trying to show off, I'll be... nicer."

Muller could distinctly hear Ruby say, "I'm not trying to show off. I want you to know I can do this."

"You're fine," was all Weiss had to say before walking back towards the group.

Jacob came scrambling up to them, huffing and puffing like mad. "Jesus," he gasped, trying to make it sound like 'geez', "You two... alright?"

"We're fine, although you sound like you smoked a full cigar before you came out here."

"Cardio... was never my strong-suit. Endurance, sure. Strength... need to work on it, but Cardio... I doubt I could run far for long." After letting his breath relax for a few seconds—and letting Yang hug one out with her little sister again—his attention turned to the screeching Deathstalker desperately trying to free itself from its icy prison. A chill crawled up his spine.

But not of fear. No, more like... exhilaration.

And anger. _Okay, that's new._ _I like it._

"So, you like picking on things smaller than you, don't you ass-munch?" He growled to the beast as it it struggled to escape; It's pincers swiped out, looking for purchase in the man, but he managed to sidestep the attack. Fortunately for him, the Deathstalker's legs and belly had been caught in the sub-zero blast, freezing it in place to the ground. He walked up to the beast's face, just missing getting crushed by the pincers yet again. A brown shoe landed between the eyes, bracing him on the beast's skull. He raised the Bersa to its red, glowing eye as it desperately thrashed. It could've practically seen the bullet in the barrel. Worse still was that it could see the glowering scowl and creeping grin across his face.

"Hold still and smile, bug-breath."

The thunderous sound of a full metal jacket .380 ACP leaving the chamber at around 1000 meters a second echoed in his ears, forcing his eyes to reflexively blink. A sickening sound like a boiled egg getting crushed followed in close pursuit. An eardrum-shattering cry of anguish. It wasn't dead.

"Die, God damn you!" Three more rounds escaped in fury, the screeching sound—dear God it was like claws on a chalkboard amplified thricefold—only got worse. A fourth shot sung its death-dealing dirge, and the screeching stopped. The thud of the tail and pincers going limp and falling to the ground confirmed it; the Deathstalker was dead..

A breath of satisfaction escaped his lips. His pulse had been racing as though he had been sprinting—Well, technically it was, since he had been sprinting to get to Ruby. While he was no Catholic, he did enjoy liberal usage of Latin, as was made evident by his inaudible chant of, " _in nomine dei Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti_." He opened his eyes only to notice the corpse was beginning to disintegrate, tail-first.

"Damn, let's see if I can get a photo for posterity real quick." A quick second later and he was the owner of a shiny new photograph of himself in front of a dead Deathstalker, intentionally flashing the Peace sign for the added irony bonus with a cocky smirk on his face.

And this was considering that he hated selfies with a frothing passion; but, when you've essentially assassinated a massive bug that could flip a Humvee with no trouble whatsoever, now there's a reason for a posterity photo.

"Hey, check me out, I just tagged and bagged a Goddamned Deathstal—" Muller was cut short by his sudden realization that he was alone, as Ruby, Yang and Weiss had already taken off for the rest of the group.

"Oh, fuck! Hey, wait for me!"

By the time he caught up with them, they had already agreed on their plan, at least as far as he could tell by the fact Jaune was saying, "Run and live... That's an idea I can get behind."

Ruby walked over to the relics and picked up the other Gold Knight. Jacob barely suppressed a chuckle as the teams formed up and began their trek back to the Beacon Cliffs. Yang came up to his left side as they watched Ruby assume command of their tiny warband.

"What's so funny," Yang asked with an eyebrow arched in curiosity.

"Ah, nothing, nothing at all."

Yang shook her head and began running to catch up with them, leaving Jacob alone for a split second. A thought crossed his mind out of amusement as he turned around and browsed for a particular relic. "Pfft, might as well." _Maybe I'll swipe the white bishop or something..._

After a few seconds, he decided against it; There's only enough there for the teams, it wouldn't be right. _Besides,_ as he fished through his backpack, pulling out that Warhammer Inquisitor of his, _I've already got my little totem, as it were._

He rolled it around in his hand for but a quick second before he heard Yang cry out, "Yo, buddy! You coming or what!?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied, "I just dropped something. Hang on, I'm coming!" He stuffed the miniature in his pack's side pocket and began jogging to catch back up with the newly-formed RWBY and JNPR.

And overhead, the screeching Nevermore followed in close pursuit, its shadow hanging over his head...

* * *

Ten minutes later, Jacob found himself pulling up the rear as they approached the Cliff. Overhead the Nevermore continued to screech and swoop as the teams were forced to find cover amidst the ruined temple pillars. Muller himself skidded to a halt behind a low wall between the teams, sliding into a crouched stance just low enough to keep himself covered. He looked down into his backpack again to see how many ammo clips he still had. So far, he counted only four remaining. _How the hell have I already burned through three magazines?_

At this point he had noticed his arm felt wet, though definitely not with sweat or simple water. pulling up the sleeve on his jacket, it was evident right out of the gate that the makeshift bandage from the Ursa attack was failing, and the wound had yet to properly scab; blood was starting to ooze into the cloth strip from his t-shirt. "Damnit, I don't have time to bleed," he cursed as he tightened the cloth, hoping the blood flow would be slowed enough to keep him from dropping dead in the field.

A scream from above told him the Nevermore had landed atop the massive tower that shadowed the whole temple.

"Well that's great!" Yang huffed to Ruby.

Jacob peaked his head over the rubble, eyeing the bird. Fortunately, with the Deathstalker dead, there was no threat that would force them into their sandwiched position from the main timeline.

Or at least he hoped so.

"We need to clip its wings, get it on the ground," Jaune called out.

"And how do you suppose we do that, Fearless Leader?" Jacob cried out, "I don't see anyone of us with a sniper rifle!"

Ruby audibly cleared her throat. Muller reintroduced his palm with his forehead. _Oh yeah, it's also a gun._

His thoughts were interrupted by the thunderous crashing of trees being uprooted. _You can't be serious._

But instead of another Deathstalker-something he was afraid would be the oncoming threat-Out of the forest came a pack of Beowolves, much larger than the ones he had met earlier. He counted 10 together, most of them sticking together while a few rushed forward to try to get First Blood.

"Oh man, run!" came the voice of Jaune.

"Agreed, run dammit!"

The teams took off running, with Jacob in hot pursuit. Nora broke off and began pelting the Nevermore with her grenade launcher. It was like watching a pink-colored AA barrage, only against a giant bird rather than Luftwaffe bombers.

"Whoo! look at that bird squawk," Jacob chimed in, "Quoth this moron, 'eat my shorts!'"

That got a hearty laugh out of Nora. "Telling off a Grimm, can't say I haven't done that before!"

"Hey, I actually got someone to laugh at my joke! First victory for the day!"

The Beowolves continued their chase, closing in on the merry misfits. Muller rounded about and began running again, firing over his shoulder to try to pick off the pursuing pack. By now RWBY and JNPR had made it to the bridge, with Pyrrha, Ren and Blake holding positions at the landing. Nora sped past him, all the more emphasizing something that had been nagging at his mind for some time.

 _I'm completely out of my fucking league._

This notion thrilled him to his bones and yet filled him with a fantastic terror he had never felt before. The very idea that, for what it was worth, even as he was out of-nay, beyond-his comfort zone, he was still running with the pack. What irony that the other pack was closing the distance.

Unfortunately, it was at that moment the Nevermore swooped low and smashed the middle out of the bridge. Jacob skidded to halt 3 yards out from the edge, spared the embarrassment of a tumble by Ren grabbing his jacket collar. "Careful!"

"Right, thanks, Ren." It didn't even occur to Muller that he had yet to ask Ren's name formally. Ren never acknowledged it either as the Beowolves moved in closer, thirsting for blood.

Another clip dropped from the Bersa, as Jacob took a knee and began to empty a volley into the pack. From behind him he could hear Jaune and Nora talking; They were trying to hop across the destroyed bridge.

The massive boom and sound of Jaune screaming told everything Jacob needed to know. After all, when you've watched the show two times the whole way through thus far, you do tend to memorize things. He hit the deck as Nora came screaming overhead, slamming Magnhild onto one of the Wolves' heads. The recoil sent her flying back into Blake, knocking her over the side. "Shit, Blake!" Jacob yelled.

Looking over the side, he was relieved as he saw Gambol Shroud launch out of her hand and blade-first into a nearby column, allowing her to swing back to the rest of RWBY with little difficulty.

"Hey, Jacob, a little help here?" He heard Jaune with a hint of strain. Muller spun around and spotted Arc desperately holding a Beowolf back with his shield. The rest of his teammates were busy with their own respective Grimm, leaving poor Jaune alone with the beast.

"Hang on, buddy!" Jacob circled around the beast before it could take notice, and unloaded two shots into the creature's head. It went rigid before flopping to the ground dead as a coffin nail.

"Uh, thanks."

"Hey, no problem," Jacob replied back, "Those of us out of our element gotta stick together, right?" A chuckle and a knowing wink signaled to Jaune that Jacob was in on the charade.

In response, Jaune paled ever so slightly, and weakly chuckled, "I, uh, I d-don't know what you're talking about."

"Hey, hey, easy," Jacob said, patting Jaune on the shoulder, "I'm good at keeping secr-SHIT, GET DOWN!"

A Beowolf was sent flying back over the edge, missing the two by inches. "I'm sorry," Pyrrha called out.

Muller's thumb flew up. "S'all good."

Getting back up, the two found that the pack had been for the most part cleared out. Only a few stragglers remained, mostly focused on the other 3 of JNPR.

It wasn't until he heard the growl that he came upon a realization; That Beowolf that he thought had gone over the side... Well..

Yeah, it hadn't gone over.

He rounded on his heels just as the beast began making a lunge towards Jaune. Seconds slowed to a crawl as Muller's mind began overclocking.

"Jaune, LOOK OUT!"

Jaune didn't even have time to register the beast as Muller tossed him out of the way, his stouter build finally playing in his favor.

Too bad he wasn't stout enough to take a 400-pound Beowolf to the torso.

He felt the impact of the beast send him to the ground. And then he felt something else he didn't care much for.

Blinding pain in the back of his skull.

He had hit his head on the rocks. Or at least that's what he thought.

Honestly, he didn't know, and his mind really didn't care.

There was the pain, and light, someone shouting his name, and then...

Darkness.

 _Fuck..._

* * *

 **About bloody time I got this chapter out, It's been driving me mad! MAD I TELLS YA!**

 **Regardless, next chapter we see just how f*cked up my situation is, we get a chance to peek into the heads of others (from a story perspective, not the OC getting into their head, mind you) and we see just how the hell am I gonna explain all this shit to Professor Ozpin!?**

 **Reviews are welcome, hopefully you all like it, and I hope to see you guys... in the next chapter... Buh-bye~!**


	5. Not In Kansas Anymore

**Well, here we go..**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Not in Kansas Anymore**

 _"There is no point in using the word 'impossible' to describe something that has clearly happened." -Douglas Adams_

* * *

... _Get him onboard, now..._

 _...Head trauma's not severe, but his vitals..._

 _...Said he hadn't eaten in two days..._

 _...Wound on his arm, it's bleeding again..._

 _...Stay away from the light!..._

 _...Jacob, please, hang on..._

* * *

...

...

...

*sip*

Ozpin was not a man for dealing with unexpected variables. While certainly he had his fair share of moments where he may have expected what should have been unexpected, most would say he tended to stick to a plan much to his own detriment.

"Glynda, a moment of your time perhaps?" he called out as he sipped his morning brew; Gods knew he would need the morning caffeine intake.

He could hear her long before he could see her, Ozpin had enough of an opportunity to mull things over for split second. This year's students were already a fascinating bunch; There was Ms. Rose, whose very presence was irregular and unexpected. She was a remarkable fighter, more than capable of wielding her weapon with ease. It was no surprise to find she was the offspring of Taiyang Xiao Long and Summer Rose, both students of his from days gone by; The silver eyes were dead giveaway in regards to who her mother was, and the uncanny determination he had no doubt was Taiyang's blood in her veins.

Speaking of the Xiao Long lineage, there was Ms. Rose's sister, Yang. Hot-headed, stubborn, brimming with fury untempered. Her fighting style complimented that temper of hers, kickboxing combined with the power of those gauntlets would do more than just drop her enemies like rocks. Her Semblance was also quite symbiotic with those two; what else would work well with the ability to take a hit and dish it back twice-fold?

Then there was Ms. Belladonna; He had talked with her previously, and from that small conversation he already could tell she had a lot she was hiding, a lot of baggage. Whatever it was, Ozpin hoped that she would open up to someone about it. On a side note, he had wondered when she would let people know she was a Faunus, or even if she would.

And to round off Team RWBY, there was Weiss Schnee; a curious individual. She was a Schnee, heiress to the biggest Dust mining company on Remnant, yet she was here at Beacon learning to be a Huntress. What would compel her to take the most dangerous career path available to her? And for that matter, why Vale; Wouldn't Atlas Academy be closer to home? Unless perhaps she was avoiding something at home...

 _Team RWBY. A curious lot indeed._

On the other hand, there was their sibling team, Team JNPR. Jaune Arc, only son of the Arc lineage, here at Beacon. On the one hand, it was no surprise that an Arc would take up the Huntsman's path, since they have been for the past century. Besides that, Mr Arc already showed great leadership potential, as was seen throughout the Initiation. On the other hand, his combat skills were mediocre at best; Hell, he didn't even have his Aura activated before the generosity of Ms. Nikos gave him that edge.

Speaking of which, Pyrrha Nikos was certainly a cut above the rest. 4-time regional champion back in Mistral, master markswoman, a master of melee as well, clearly she was destined for greatness. Outside of her combat skills, she seemed to be a gentle girl, humble, friendly, composed and collected. She would no doubt make many friends, and maybe a few enemies, while she was here.

Then there are the other two, Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie; honestly he couldn't talk about one without the other. Bubbly, exuberant Nora Valkyrie, the heavy-hitter of the team and by and large a fascinating individual. Her partner Lie Ren, however, was the complete opposite of her: Silent, contemplative, obviously trained in lightning strikes and guerrilla style combat. It was even more fascinating to hear that the two of them had lived on their own up until now. What happened to their parents, Ozpin wondered, that would leave them in such a position.

 _Team JNPR. A diamond in the rough if I ever saw one._

 _Of course, there are a lot more than just the new students to be concerned about; Amber's condition is stable for now, but that sudden deterioration last week was too close for comfort. It may be time to take drastic measures..._

He sipped from his mug again, the black roast coffee settling his nerves ever so gradually.

 _And then there's this Jacob fellow._

Ozpin had seen this... man, if he could call him that, stumble about in the forest just as the Initiation had been underway. Glynda had wanted to halt the test so that he could be escorted out, but about that time they saw him snuff out a Beowolf with two shots and then outsmart another two. So they kept watching.

He met up with Ms. Nikos and Mr. Arc, took an Ursa's bite to his arm-again, Glynda insisted he be escorted out, only this time for medical help-but even then was raring to go.

Helped them locate the temple, though that did annoy Ozpin, and cleaned up a Deathstalker with five shots. Granted, it was easier shooting at point-blank range to kill practically anything, especially in a softer part of a Grimm.

And then he was knocked unconscious by a Beowolf tackling him as he saved Jaune from getting attacked from behind.

Suffice it to say, a Bullhead with Glynda and him onboard was soon after on its way to pick the teams and the stranger both up.

By the time they had arrived, Ms. Rose had managed to kill the Nevermore with help from her partner, as made evident by the rain of feathers. Suffice it to say, it was already evident by then the teams would work well together.

In regards to the stranger whom they discovered was named Jacob Muller-an odd name as it bore no resemblance to any color-it was a miracle he managed to come out with as little long-term damage as he did. His eyes opened on and off throughout the ride back to Beacon, but Ozpin knew that the combination of the concussion, the weakened state from the lack of food and the massive wound on his arm were forcing him into a recuperation mode. He may very well be alright, but his body would be trying to reconvene and consolidate what energy it had left. Once they had arrived at the school, the medical staff took over the task of tending to him. 3 hours later and the report had come in that he was stable and that the concussion that had knocked him out miraculously spared him any major head trauma, at least according to the CT scans. Alongside that, the Ursa bite on his arm had stopped bleeding and would begin to heal in time. Strangely, Ms. Rose and Ms. Nikos had been insistent that they should be informed when he comes around. Ozpin knew the blood of the covenant was thicker than waters of the womb, but so soon? Something about this boy-he hesitated to call him a man-must have resonated well with those two.

"Professor?"

"Hm? Oh, my apologies Glynda, I was just pondering something."

"It's that boy, isn't it," Goodwitch assumed with a huff as she came to a stop next to his desk, "Something about him is puzzling you."

"Indeed. Tell me, how likely is it that a random civilian could just waltz onto school grounds in the middle of Initiation without even realizing it?"

"Suspiciously high odds, if you ask me."

"You think he's... one of them?"

"I'm never one for coincidences, Professor."

"I agree Glynda." Ozpin reached for the school's intercom system, paging for the infirmary wing office. "Nurse, has Mr. Muller begun showing any signs of stirring?"

"Oh, well I just checked in on him, and Ms. Rose is here to check on him for Team JNPR, said that they'd be along shortly. It seems he's coming around this time."

"Thank you, Nurse, Professor Goodwitch and I will be along shortly to meet him in person."

The intercom clicked off, and the office returned to its silent state.

Ozpin decided another sip of coffee was in order before he would head out to confront this boy. "I suppose we'd better hurry; if what Mr. Arc said is true, that boy is liable to scarf down whatever is offered to him. Goodness knows if Nurse Claiborne's cinnamon crumbles will survive long enough for the rest of us..."

* * *

...

...

...

 _Wh... where am I?_ That was the first thing to enter his mind.

The second was the excruciating pain in his head.

It was as though his head was on the receiving end of a howitzer cannon. After he let out a pained groan, it was at this point he began to notice that the rest of his body was equally sore. The lights were dimmed, wherever he was, so his retinas were spared from an early reintroduction to the sun. Wherever he was, it was chilled to the level he tended to find comfortable for sleep. Whoever turned down the temperature he had to thank later. On the air he couldn't smell anything of note, though his mind wished to tell him otherwise; For a split second, his mind wanted to tell him he was back in his upstairs room, his family making up breakfast while they let him sleep in for a change, and his boss wasn't calling him in at 7:00 in the morning. Any moment now, his little brother and dad would open the door and in would come the family dogs, hopping up on the bed and showering him with slobbery dog kisses.

But something in his mind said he wasn't home. This wasn't his bed, this wasn't his room, this wasn't his house.

"Hell on a hang-glider, my head..."

"Easy, Jacob," came a voice. It was feminine and vaguely familiar, though he was too groggy to really put a name to the voice. "You've been out of it for almost a whole day."

"God...I had the strangest dream... that I landed in a... faraway land... met a group of heroes..."

"Well... you're all safe and sound here in the Beacon infirmary."

"...Beacon Infirmary?"

The next thing he knew was the sound of curtains being drawn back. Sunlight assaulted his eyes like a Blood Angel Death Company; painfully and relentlessly.

His eyelids were practically welded shut, but he refused to be blind to the world around him. He forced his eyes open, and was immediately aware he was in the farthest thing from his room.

It was, just as the voice had said, an infirmary, though a bit large and grandiose for a place where the wounded and sick would go to heal, at least in his opinion. There were dozens of beds, each well-equipped for the observation of patients. It was strange though, he seemed to be the only person in the facility, at least in regards to patients. All curtains sans the one just opened were closed, plunging the room into a tone halfway between nighttime blackness and early morning sunrise. He however was front and center to the sun's rays; the angle of the light told him it was around 9:00 in the morning, give or take an hour.

As his eyes scanned the room, they laid to rest on another figure in the room. She was clad in what he could only describe as a red tartan skirt, a white blouse with maroon trim and thin red bow, a brown vest with gold buttons, and a maroon blazer with a gold trim. She wore brown shoes and full length black stockings; Jacob felt as though he was looking at a Catholic schoolgirl.

But the long red cape clasped to the blazer told him this was no Catholic schoolgirl.

She turned around, and Jacob's heart skipped a terrified beat.

Fair skin, black hair ending in dark red highlights in an asymmetrical bob, silver eyes, petite nose-

Silver eyes.

Ruby Rose.

Jacob suppressed the urge to scream.

 _...This is a really long fucking dream. And it's starting to get old fast. Alright, brain, wake up damn you!_

"Hey, hey, easy there," Ruby cooed, grabbing hold of his hand. It was a gentle grasp, warm and comforting, like the smile that had arrived on her face; that adorable smile he found so endearing that he normally couldn't resist the urge to smile along with. Right now, however, was not one of those instances.

Mainly because he was more focused on the grasp she held on his hand.

 _...I can feel her pulse._

 _...I can feel how warm her hand is._

 _...This isn't a dream. I don't have the brains to get this level of detail in a dream._

He looked down at his arm, where he had been bitten by the Ursa. Sure enough, there on his arm was a gauze wrap, old blood forming the distinct pattern of a bitemark.

 _That wasn't a dream either. That actually happened... I was in the Emerald Forest._

 _I'm not on Earth._

 _I'm on Remnant._

 _I'm IN RWBY._

 _"_ Hey, Jacob, are you okay?"

Once again, his eyes met hers, and this time his mind couldn't help but get lost. His cognitive functions were running on all cylinders at the moment, trying to process the fact he had essentially become the subject of a bad fanfiction. At the same time, part of him was taking in every detail, of the room, of the facility, even of her.

"...Mr. Jacob?" She waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his analytical stupor.

"Huh? O-oh," Jacob started, realizing his faux pas almost too late. "Sorry... Ruby."

Her hand squeezed his ever so gently, as if to subconsciously confirm that this is real, he was here with her right now. "You had us all worried for a bit there. That bump on your head looked really bad."

"Bump on my... oh, right, now I remember. The Beowolf..." Jacob's mind began retracing the steps of the canonical timeline, piecing together what he could. "Did you guys get that Neverm- No, wait, that's a stupid question, otherwise we wouldn't be here."

Ruby beamed brightly, the pride evident in her eyes; of course she took the great bird out of the sky. Hell, she probably did it in the exact same way as in the show proper.

"I presume you were the one to kill it, Ms. Rose?" he said with a sly grin. A cute blush tinged her cheeks as she revelled in the appraisal. "Well, I did get off a pretty cool decapitation on it... I mean, I was all like..." From there she broke off into a string of onomatopoeias and chopping hand gestures trying desperately to simulate her slaying of the Nevermore. It didn't matter though, he remembered how it went down in the show; Weiss throws Ruby via slingshot construct, gives her anti-grav glyphs, Ruby runs up the cliff, off with its head.

A chuckle escaped Jacob's throat as he watched her adorableness coalesce. It was enough to shake Ruby from her temporary bout of self-obsession. Double-taking for a brief second, her blush returned only this time with embarrassment as the culprit.

"Uh, right, well, you get the idea."

"Right, right..."

They sat in silence for a few seconds as the awkwardness returned. Muller's head was still reeling from the shock of his predicament, but he had buried it deep in his mind to set loose later in solitude.

The sound of a door opening announced newcomers to the room.

Muller couldn't even begin to register the surprise in his mind when Professor Ozpin rounded the corner with Glynda Goodwitch hot on his heels.

 _Well well, if it isn't the Wizard of Oz..._

"Ah, Ms. Rose," Ozpin called out, "I trust our patient only just woke up right now."

"Oh, Professor! I, uh, may have sorta accidentally woken him up." Ruby muttered as she nervously rubbed the back of her neck.

"Ah, it's alright," Muller groaned as he attempted to shift to a more upright position in the bed, "I've slept in enough as of late." The response to his shifting was a sharp pain shooting up his back; He must have pinched a nerve or something.

"A fine sentiment if I've ever heard one," Ozpin replied with a faint smile on his face. "Ms. Rose, could you let Team JNPR know our friend is awake? I know Mr. Arc and Ms. Nikos would be delighted to hear he's awake and coherent."

"Oh, sure! Okay, be back in a minute!" And like that, Ruby Rose was out the door and gone, a light flurry of rose petals dancing in her wake.

 _Red like roses fills my dreams..._

Muller mentally batted away the opening chords to "Red Like Roses Part 1" and attempted to focus on his new visitor; the head of the Ozluminati as the FNDM tended to call it.

At that moment he noticed that Ozpin had taken a seat in a wooden chair next to the bed and was eyeing him with an unhealthy level of curiosity.

"...So," Jacob sighed.

Ozpin simply sipped his coffee as he always did.

"You're Professor Ozpin, headmaster of this school, right?"

Ozpin provided him no answer, and just kept staring at him.

 _...Is he... trying to size me up? Trying to read me? Does he know something about me?_

"...I presume this lovely lady is your second-in-command." All he got was a scathing glare from Glynda. _Ouch, Good Witch of the North my ass._

"Tell me, Mr. Muller, do you know what you were doing in the Emerald Forest?" Ozpin's question carried a slight tinge of concern to it, as though he was expecting to hear something he wouldn't want to hear.

"I, uh... I honestly have no clear answers to that. All I can remember is... Well..."

And that was the kicker; of all the times for him to actually forget something, his brain had to pick now. He swore that his last memory back home was... driving to work, early in the morning... or was it staying up late with a friend to coordinate a multiplayer campaign on _PlanetSide 2?_

"Perhaps some mild retrograde amnesia?" Ozpin suggested. A bright spot of hope manifested in Jacob's mind.

"...That would explain the blanks." At least Jacob was good at acting a part provided to him, on a silver platter no less.

"However that may be, you trespassed on Beacon Academy property. I'm afraid that as soon as you are well, you will have to be escorted out and returned to civilian life, whatever that may be for you."

A cold grip chained itself to Jacob's heart. "W-wait, wait, is there no way I could stick aro-"

Ozpin raised his hand to silence Jacob. "I'm afraid that would be against school policies. While you are a relatively competent marksman as was evident with your fights in the Forest alongside Teams RWBY and JNPR, individuals without prior Huntsman training are usually not permitted to attend."

 _Didn't stop you from letting in Ruby and Blake_ , Jacob growled in his own mind. _Wait, COMPETENT marksman!? I fucking downed 6 or so Beowolves with no training; competent is insulting at this point!_

"I do apologize, but I must attend to other matters. Have a good day Mr. Muller." Ozpin got up to leave, with Glynda following close behind.

 _Shitshitshit,_ Muller screamed internally, _Think of something, anything!_

It was at that moment that part of his mind reminded him of the words of Gabriel Angelos, Chapter Master of the Blood Ravens Space Marines of the _Dawn of War_ games. The creed of the whole Chapter:

 _Knowledge is Power,_ Lord Angelos' voice played out in his head, _Guard it well._

And he had just the tidbit to work with.

"I know about The Maidens and Salem!"

Ozpin halted in his tracks.

Silence hung over the room like a death shroud, threatening to choke the life out of the very air.

The words hit home after about 20 seconds of heart-pounding fear.

"Excuse me?"

"I know about The Maidens, I've heard of your opponent Salem, and I know about Amber the Fall Maiden."

Ozpin slowly turned around, revealing the curious half-scowl he held on his face. _He thinks his security's compromised. He thinks I'm a spy for Salem._

 _Oh fuck, he thinks I'm a spy for Salem._

"Look, before you jump to any conclusions, I'm not some spy for the Grimm-wannabe bitch, okay!?"

"Oh? Tell me then, how do you know all this? Tell me how this isn't something you conjured up in your mind while you were out cold. And even if it is the truth, how do I know I can TRUST you?"

A question he had been anticipating Ozpin to ask; To make Jacob doubt his own validity, to make him falter in some way to give Ozpin an opening. He wouldn't let The Wizard of Oz win this round.

"Because you need all the help you can get; You need boots on the ground to help you in whatever way you can to keep this secret war of yours under lock and key."

Silence again.

"And you're gonna need those same boots on the ground if things come to a head."

For a solid minute, quiet hung low over them both as they read each other, studied each other. _He must be gauging if I would reveal the truth to the public... Which isn't a bad insurance policy._

"...A curious individual you are, Mr. Muller. Tell me, with how you handled yourself in the Emerald Forest, while you may have no formal Huntsman training, I take it you've had some combat training? Perhaps militia training?"

Jacob let slip a bemused scoff as his heart rate began to slow back to a normal speed. "Where I'm from, combat happens anytime, anywhere, to anyone. If you think you're gonna go through life without coming to a scuffle then you are a delusional fuck or absolutely dumb as a sack of rocks." _Probably sound like an Atlesian to him; Then again, Earth half the time makes Remnant look like a playground for kids._

Ozpin exhaled a breath he had obviously been holding in, allowing his demeanor to relax ever slightly so. "A wise sentiment. I can see there is the capacity for great things in you, Mr. Muller, especially as a Huntsman. Perhaps it would be a wiser move to train you here. After all, you are aware of the war we fight, and hopefully you understand the severity of it as well."

Muller's brows furrowed as he nodded in conformation; This was a fight bigger than any one man. Theirs was a fight for the future of a whole planet, an entire civilization, and there could be no mistakes. This was bigger than Jacob could have begun dreaming about being, but that was no less daunting to him than choosing which Space Marine Chapter to play as at his local Warhammer meetups. _Crazy? Yeah. But I wouldn't want it any other way, right?_

"There is the slight problem that if you were to attend this academy as a student you would need to be part of a team and there are no more spots formally available."

"Right, right, four-man fireteams as it were. Promote cohesion and teamwork amongst future Hunters-er, Huntsmen and Huntresses. I know the drill, but I honestly don't know how we could-" Ozpin's outstretched hand shushed him again.

"That being said, Headmasters are on occasion known to take on additional students sans teammates if circumstances arise. I see great potential in you, Mr. Muller; potential that has been wasted up until now. And I think it would be a great boon to you."

"...What are you saying?"

Ozpin's hand stretched out, looking for another hand to shake. Jacob's hand in particular. A raised eyebrow from Ozpin said everything he needed to know: _Do you want to come to my school?_

 _More than anything,_ he heard his mind's voice echo Ruby.

Jacob's hand met Ozpin's in a firm embrace, and the bargain was struck. Jacob couldn't help but smile as Ozpin affirmed what he had thought was the deal.

"Welcome to Beacon, Mr. Muller."

* * *

In the back of Ozpin's mind, the gears and cogs were metaphorically turning as he studied his new protege. Perhaps he had been too jumpy in regards to this kid; While certainly he knew the truth about the Maidens and Salem, perhaps he was simply well-informed and wanted to help. Perhaps here, under the guidance of the professors he could rise to the new challenge presented to him.

 _But you're hiding something still, aren't you Mr. Muller?_

The sound of the door opening again informed him that Ms. Rose was back, even before she shouted to let them know. "Hey Jacob, I'm back with friends!~"

Muller's eyes focus on something behind Ozpin-no doubt Ms. Rose and her compatriots-and the faintest echo of surprise flashed across his eyes. Something must have shell-shocked him. Opzin turned around to see who had come with Ruby.

"Ah, Ms. Nikos, Mr. Arc, glad to see you could stop by. I was just welcoming Mr. Muller to our Academy..."

* * *

 **"Knowledge is Power, Guard it Well" I say! (Trust me, that's gonna be a recurring theme throughout this fic.)**

 **Alongside working and studying for Finals, this has been an interesting chapter to write. I bounced back and forth between what I would do for it, but I decided to have my confrontation with Ozpin sooner rather than later. Also, honestly, I couldn't think how the back and forth would go between the two of us, so I decided to play the blackmail trump card to secure my foothold.**

 **Also, there are a lot of references to films and shows throughout this chapter. Can you guess them all?**

 **Next chapter we get to see the aftermath, the setup, and who and how someone will awaken my Aura, and not in that particular order! Also, expect music to be referenced in future chapters.**

 **If yo have gotten this far and are enjoying the fic, thank you for reading this, it means alot to me, I hope to hear from you guys on how to improve and how to make this fic better, and I'll see you all... in the next chapter. Buh-Bye~!**


	6. Ghosts of Futures Past

**Wanna know what a roller coaster of emotions sounds like? Do I look like the kinda guys who knows the answer to that?**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Ghosts of Futures Past**

 _For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow. -Ecclesiastes 1:18, King James Bible_

* * *

"Ah, Ms. Nikos, Mr. Arc, glad to see you could stop by. I was just welcoming Mr. Muller to our Academy."

 _Oh for fuck's sake, be still my beating heart._

As if today couldn't shatter Jacob's perception of normalcy any further.

Rounding the doorframe, Jaune Arc and Pyrrha Nikos came into view. The two of them were beaming brightly, more than obviously happy to see him.

He however was reeling something terrible.

"Hello again!" Pyrrha called out.

 _And just like that I'm that much closer to crying._

Fighting back the urge to panic again, Muller plastered a fake smile on his face as best as he could. "Hey, Mr. Arc, Ms. Nikos! A pleasure to see your happy faces again!"

Jaune waved back a hello before noticing the headmaster. "Oh, Professor! I, uh, What are you doing here?"

Ozpin's stoic face hardly changed as he simply replied, "After some personal... discussions with Mr. Muller, I have decided to allow him to attend Beacon; From what I saw during the Initiation, he has some good potential as a Huntsman, even if he is rather rough around the edges. Granted, he will probably be in need of significantly-more training if he is to be on par with the rest of the student body, but I have a feeling he'll be up to the task. Am I to understand that correctly?" The arched eyebrow of Ozpin drew attention back to Jacob, against his wishes.

"Uhm, definitely. Believe you me, this is a challenge I welcome." A weak chuckle escaped his throat, seeking to lighten the mood of the room.

"Glad to hear. I'll return to my office and see if perhaps there is a spare dorm that we could use for your accommodations. I might also recommend you look into perhaps a new wardrobe; All things considered, those clothes of yours aren't good attire for... well, anything now, honestly."

"Huh?" Jacob looked down at his clothes, silently thanking that he wasn't in a hospital gown or something embarrassing like that; sure enough, his white t-shirt was coated in dried blood, forming a macabre white and red tie-dye pattern. The lower hem has also been ripped off by Blake to wrap his arm, leaving his lower torso visible. Meanwhile his jeans only received what looked like a fine mist, probably not enough to warrant throwing away, just some insane levels of scrubbing with detergent in the wash. All that was left was his jacket—he found it draped over the side of the headboard of the bed, spared blood splatter but sporting a well-placed, almost decorative diagonal scratch across the back—and his back... pack...

 _Wait. Where is it?_

"Where's my backpack?" He began to frantically search around for it. He remembered he had it on as far as up until the Cliffs but after that... _Shit, where is it!?_

"Uh, it's right there," Jaune deadpanned as he pointed to the foot of the bed, "you dropped it when you went and... y'know, took that attack for me."

Muller reached over for it, ignoring the protests of pain coming from his ribs. However, instead of opening it up in the presence of so many and potentially compromising his position, he instead opted to simply move it over closer to him. "Thank you Jaune. As much as this situation is unprecedented, I'm at least happy that whoever took me was kind enough to leave it with me." Reaching over to his jacket, he traced the cut in the leather with his index finger, noticing how jagged the cut had been; That must have been one hell of a dull claw.

"What do you know," Jacob muttered under his breath, "Must've made that 6+ t-shirt save after all."

"Pardon?" Pyrrha asked, clearly having not heard him correctly.

"Nothing, nothing."

At that moment he noticed that Ozpin had already left the room, and Glynda had clearly followed behind him. Honestly, Jacob couldn't help but feel she was attached to Oz at the hip, and not just from the perspective of as a co-worker. _Makes me wonder how she felt about_ — _or, rather, will feel_ — _about his... his..._

He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. The pit in his stomach told him to hold his tongue for a little bit longer, even if it was in his head and all. And that led his mind back to the tall redhead currently standing by the side of his bed, beaming brightly.

Here she was, in all her glory.

Pyrrha Nikos.

The Invincible Girl.

And none the wiser of her impending doom. Her battle with Cinder...

Her death.

Some sad sadistic fuck in the back of his mind began to play the opening chords of "Cold", but was promptly banished before the song could bring the tears it so thirsted for.

"...So... I guess I'm gonna end up a classmate of yours, huh?" Jacob asserted as he tried to smother the rising emotions in his mind.

"I suppose so," Pyrrha said, "Though I wonder how you'll do without a partner, let alone a team."

"Eh, I'll wing it like I always do," Jacob feigned calm, in truth pondering the exact same thing. "Numbers aren't everything to a good scrap." As to punctuate his point, he lightly tapped his head with his middle finger just above the temple.

"Uh, I don't get it," Jaune deadpanned.

Jacob and Pyrrha shared a look before they shared a giggle from her and a snicker from him. For but a brief second the room was bright and warm as their laughter echoed about.

"Uh, hey," Jaune said to get Muller's attention. "I just... I wanted to say thanks for what you did back there. That was... that was a pretty risky thing to do, especially for, y'know, a complete stranger." He moved in for a handshake, open palm extended out to meet his in the middle.

Jacob hesitated for but a brief second before closing the gap, giving Arc's hand a firm grasp. "Ah, every man's gotta get his battle scars, am I right? Just a shame I got mine so early on, eh?" He patted his arm where the Ursa's teeth had sunk in for emphasis, grunting as he realized that the pain of the wound was far from gone. _Jesus, don't these people have painkillers?_

"All things considered, that was a dangerous position to be in without an active Aura."

Jacob glanced aside at Pyrrha for what felt like solid minutes. "Uh, yeah... Aura." _Crap, do I even HAVE Aura?_

"You are aware of what Aura is right?"

"Uh, yeah, I have a basic idea: Extension of the soul, acts like a second layer of armor, can have 6th sense capacities, can be used in offensive measures with proper training, et cetera, et cetera. Though that is probably horribly oversimplified."

Pyrrha seemed at ease with the fact that Jacob was actually aware of the capabilities of Aura, though she did retain a mild look of concern. "Than you understand why in the role of a Huntsman you will need the have it at full strength. And that also means actually having it awakened."

Jacob's heart skipped another terrified beat; at this point the little morbid jackass in the back of his head was joking if this world would kill him through cardiac arrest before the Grimm would be given the chance to sunder flesh from his bones.

"...And by awakened you mean?" He hesitantly quandried.

His answer came when she moved in close, placing a hand on his chest and her other hand on his cheek.

Jacob felt cold; Both the song returning to his mind and the sudden shock stealing away what warmth lied within him.

He heard her speak to him directly, giving him the exact same instructions as she gave Jaune.

"Just close your eyes and concentrate."

 _Oh God Almighty, why do you test me so?_ He bit back the urge to cry as he did as she asked. As he began to focus, Jacob began to notice something...

There was a faint tingling in his body at first—hardly anything to think about at first—but then he felt it.

The tiniest spark of something... _inside_ of him. He'd swear the feeling was manifesting within his chest, right on top of his heart if anything. He could almost see it in his mind's eye...

 _A faint spark in the heart of a ocean of shadows._

And then Pyrrha began to speak.

 **"For it is in passing that we achieve immortality..."**

 _The spark began to glow brighter, slowly at first, but he could see the change, ever so slow as it may have been..._

 **"Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all..."**

 _The spark caught a fuse, and the faintest candlelight began to illuminate the scene, driving back the shadows as they seemed to cower from it. It began to grow, becoming much more than a simple fire from a candle._

 **"Infinite in distance and unbound by death—"**

 _For a brief second, the flame shrunk back at the word "death", the shadows regaining a foothold as his mind flashed the silhouettes of Cinder and Pyrrha when she... No. He wouldn't let that consume him._ _He refused to let that shadow cloud his mind. It already had once, he wouldn't let his emotions act irrationally again._

 _The flame halted its retreat,as if it had caught upon something revelationary._

 **"—I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee."**

 _The flame caught its second wind, roaring its defiance as a lion would. The shadows fled in terror, singed by the newly-born inferno. But the flame grew and grew, and about that time began to take on a blue tint, a deep mid-morning sky blue that licked at the shadows and sent them scurrying._

He himself felt the fire within him, his whole body feeling energized and invigorated. It was like taking a shot of espresso with an injection of adrenaline straight to his heart on the side.

But before he could let this newfound strength and energy get to his head, he opened his eyes to find Pyrrha doubled over, looking for all the world like she had been on the receiving end of a headrush.

"Easy, Pyrrha," Jaune said as he place and hand on her shoulder, obviously ready to brace her.

"Woah, you okay?" Jacob moved to grab hold in case she fell down. "Here, sit down before you go and fall down."

"Thank you," Pyrrha replied as she moved to take a seat, "I must confess that it is..." she paused as she performed some deep breathing, probably trying to counteract her malady, "...somewhat taxing, but your Aura should be ready for combat."

Jacob was about to arch an eyebrow up in questioning only to spot something out of the corner of his eye. In particular on his outstretched arm.

His arm was _glowing_. Not in the sense like if was soaked with water and catching the the light in a shine, more in the sense that he was encircled within a... barrier of light, in a way. He looked over himself in awe and wonder as he drank in the sight; The glow was a distinct color he swore he recognized, a vibrant medium blue, almost the color of an early morning sky.

And then it well and truly registered in his mind what he was just given:

This _is Aura. MY Aura._

He felt an invigoration so thrilling he couldn't help but let out an amused laugh. "Check it out..." His amusement was contagious as he heard Pyrrha let out a giggle and Jaune a bemused sigh.

"Wait a minute," Jacob started as his memories of the FNDM reared their paranoid heads again, "I thought that Aura Awakening like that was a rather intimate action... At least from what I heard back home."

Pyrrha and Jaune looked at him with confusion, before glancing at one another for but a brief second; the faint blush on Pyrrha's face told perhaps much more than she had wanted. "Well, I've honestly never heard that before," she stumbled over the words, obviously trying to hide what Muller had concluded to be a ludicrous statement on his part. "It's not intimate persay, but it is more often practiced amongst close friends and family back in Mistral."

Muller nodded in contemplation as he stored away the information for later. "Huh. Regardless, I uh... I just, uh... Thank you, Ms. Ni— Pyrrha. This means a lot to me." He flashed a small grin her way.

"Oh, that reminds me," Jaune started as he reached into his pocket, "You dropped this back at the Cliffs." He fished out the Bersa that Muller had found in his pack, scratched up and a little worse for wear, but at least from cursory glance it was still operational.

"Ah, thank you!" Jacob cried out with relieved joy. "Looks like no major damage to report..." He tested all the mechanics, finding nothing wrong, though the finish had received its fair share of battle damage, considering how little it had seen actual battle.

"But, uh, I don't think just a pistol will do for being here, y'know."

"Fair point, Mr Ar—Jaune, sorry. But yeah, fair point. Everyone here seems at least somewhat melee-oriented. Hope there's some spares floating around or something—"

At about that point, the sound of a fluttering cape and a massive gust of wind and rose petals signaled Ruby's return. By the time Jacob had blinked, she was directly in his face, grinning widely.

"Did someone say they needed a weapon!?"

"Y-yeah, melee for me, myself and I—" About that time Jacob's stomach bellowed in anger; 2 days or so without food is not healthy, even if you were hooked up to an IV.

"But first, let's get something to eat."

* * *

Pyrrha Nikos was not expecting her year to start out like this. Already 3 days in and she beginning to find herself in good—and strange—company. It was so strange, all things considered she had spent most of her time alone at Mistral. After all, when you're at the top, everyone just refuses to let you step off the pedestal even for a second. The tournament victories, the sponsorships, the constant demand to stay at her peak, when she was offered the chance to attend Beacon Academy instead of Haven, she had practically lept at the offer. A new place to start fresh, away from the fame and glory; even then it still shadowed her every move.

First, there was obviously her team, and at the head of her team was Jaune. On the one hand, he wasn't necessarily the most capable fighter; How he even got into Beacon was beyond her. But, he was a competent strategist so far as she had seen, and he was a genuinely good person. She even could admit to herself that she found being around him comforting. _It's... strange to say the least. Why do I feel like this around him?_

Then there was Nora, and Pyrrha honestly had no idea what to think about her; she was a bubbly one, obviously not tied down by the gravity of her future occupation. In combat her style of fighting was heavy-hitting, more or less with the intent of hitting her target once and not having to hit again. Then again, wielding a grenade launcher-warhammer tends to lead to that kind of fight-style. But she was already taking a shining to Pyrrha, and only after two days of being on the same team.

Then there was Lie... or Ren as he preferred to go by. Silent, stoic, constantly calm even in sparring practice, he was a polar opposite to Nora. How those two knew each other prior to Beacon was beyond Pyrrha's comprehension. Despite that, Ren was an agile fighter, focusing on mobility and precision to fight, and his weapons certainly helped that out.

Of course, there was also their sister team RWBY, but Pyrrha had yet to make much of an introduction with anyone outside of Weiss and Ruby. Weiss was certainly of the Atlesian stock, much to Pyrrha's chagrin, and her status as the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company only put Pyrrha more at odds with her attitude as she tended to pull strings profusely. Ruby on the other hand was a lot more friendly; a shy girl to be sure, but being enough of a combat expert to be able to skip two years of primary Huntsman school did kind of explain it. Sacrifice social time for training? Not something Pyrrha would have agreed with, but to each their own.

Then, of course, there was Jacob. _Well Mr. Muller, where do I begin with you..._

While certainly not a proficient fighter, he certainly had held his own amongst them during the Initiation. With proper Huntsman training that would be even still rather impressive. Without training performing the same feat was astonishing; Being a meagre civilian with no awakened Aura and no formal training?

He should not have even survived, as much as Pyrrha hate that kind of mindset.

Yet here he was across from her, chowing down on a plate of ham, scrambled eggs, potatoes and toast in the cafeteria. Actually, wolfing it down was probably the better word for it.

"Oh my God, after three days of no food, this is like Manna from Heaven!"

The Beacon cafeteria was for the most part empty, only a few stragglers floating about the place grabbing a quick bite to eat on the way to classes or sparring or whatever they had planned for the day. It was closing in on 10:30 when she, Jaune and Ruby had left the infirmary with Jacob in tow to get him something solid to eat, and fortunately it wasn't that far of a walk. The chef had heard of the new student—no doubt courtesy of Professor Ozpin—and had prepared something basic to get something in Jacob's stomach.

"...What's Manna?" Jaune asked under his breath. Pyrrha simply shrugged, chalking up to perhaps a local food from... actually, come to think of it, she hadn't asked where he was from.

"Excuse me, Jacob?"

He looked at her, swallowing hard what he had in his mouth before addressing her. "Sorry, what's up?"

"I wanted to ask you about something. Where are you from, exactly?"

Jacob held a look that she wanted to say was him processing her question, but before he could answer the rest of Teams RWBY and JNPR made their way over, led by Nora and Ren.

"There's the nut with a hard head!" Nora came barreling up, scooping up Jacob in a crushing hug. Pyrrha was still amazed by Nora's raw, unfiltered strength as she once again held him aloft in her hug despite him standing a good 3 inches taller than her. "That was absolutely insane what you did! I like it!"

"Well, someone's gotta take the hard punches, right? Although," he wheezed out, "You're crushing my chest, Nora... again."

"Nora, please," came Ren's calm and collected voice, "He's been through a lot the last few days, I don't think he needs to spend anymore time in the infirmary."

"Oopsies, sorry." Nora set him down back in his seat, giving Jacob the opportunity to catch his breath. Pyrrha couldn't help but giggle.

"Nah, nah, s'okay. I like your enthusiasm, I can tell nothing slows you down." Nora beamed before slapping him on the back. Surprisingly he didn't falter on that one, even though Jaune had been knocked flat on his butt by that same move the day before. Probably had to do with him sitting down or something like that.

Then came the voice of Weiss Schnee as she walked up to the table with the rest of Team RWBY in tow.

"Insane is exactly what I'd call that! You actively wander into the Emerald Forest DURING Initiation, get lucky a few times during the fighting and suddenly are a student here, With no formal training, nothing much more than basic weaponry and not even a functionally-active Aura!? How in—"

"Geez Weiss, lighten up!" Yang lamented to her sister's partner. "What he did back there was honestly pretty hard core, especially for a civie." She turned and took a seat on Jacob's left side, giving him a playful nudge in the shoulder. "You're alright in my book, kid."

Jacob seemed to brighten as the blonde backed him up. "Why thank you Yang, but 'kid'? At last recollection, I'm the old codger here at 20 versus your lot's 17. Hell, who's the only man here sporting some facial hair?" He emphasized by pointing to the fairly-short goatee he wore on his face. _Wait, he's 20,_ Pyrrha suddenly noted in her head, _Awfully late to be starting on Huntsman training._

"Whatever," she huffed with bemusement. Jacob began to laugh only to suddenly cut himself off with a sharp hiss of pain as he clutched his head.

"Hey, you OK?" Both Pyrrha's hands and Yang's right hand reached out and grabbed his shoulder; for a split second he looked at Yang's arm in nearly-invisible shock before it subsided. _...Odd,_ Pyrrha thought to herself.

"Damnit all, I completely forgot about my morning tea; I don't get it in my system by about midday usually I start feeling like my head's in the middle of a civil war." Muller got up to grab a mug and hot water, leaving the two teams to have some time to talk about upcoming classes... and their new acquaintance.

"Unbelieveable," Weiss piped up in annoyance as she took a seat at the table, "I have to go through seven kinds of headache just to get myself to come here instead of Atlas Academy, and yet he essentially waltzes in and is handed it by the Headmaster no less!? What gives?"

Ruby took a seat across from Weiss. "Well," she meekly began, "I'm sure Professor Ozpin has good reason to allow him admittance."

Blake sat down and began reading as usual, still managing to keep up with the conversation, something Pyrrha thought most couldn't do. "He found himself in an impromptu combat scenario and pulled off some actually impressive feats for someone in his position. Most people wouldn't—rather, shouldn't—be able to do that well." On a side note, Pyrrha swore she heard some edged nervousness hiding deep in Blake's voice, though why was beyond her.

"I say give him the benefit of the doubt!" Yang beamed brightly, more than happy to take Jacob's side.

"...I suppose I should, after all he is going to be our newest classmate," Weiss said with a huff.

Ruby copied her sister's reaction, both two rays of sunshine on an already crystal clear morning, their smiles delightfully infectious. Just then Jacob returned, a piping hot mug of tea in hand.

"Thank the Lord they have Earl Grey! I was worried I would be left floundering on options," he chuckled as he took a seat and a particularly large gulp from the mug.

"You? a tea drinker?" Weiss said with the slightest incredulity in her voice.

"Only way I get my caffeine; Coffee I tend to drown in sugar and or chocolate." He shrugged and took another gulp.

The look on her face was indescribable, a combination of shock, pleasant surprise all rolled into one. How she managed to do that was beyond Pyrrha's comprehension. It didn't help that Muller was giving her a smug grin of comeuppance as he continued to take in his morning brew. Meanwhile Yang was doing her best to halt the snickering laugh clawing its way up her throat, and Blake had begun to show signs of a grin on her cheeks.

"Anywho, you had been asking me something Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha wanted to consider asking him again, but something in the back of her mind said that there would be time to ask those questions later. Right now, he had a dorm to claim, a lot of preparation ahead of him for classes...

And he still would need a proper weapon of some kind.

"Oh, nothing important, Jacob."

* * *

After another half hour of chatting and getting to know each other, Jacob decided to take to his new dormitory; Fortunately he had been given a dormitory just down the hall from JNPR and RWBY's dorms, much to Pyrrha's surprise.

"I think Oz is exercising his sense of humor to extreme degrees," Jacob said with a tone of bemusement. Entering the dorm, it was no different from the rest of the student dorms, though it was a lot roomier due to the lone occupant of the room.

"Well, it's gonna need some decoration here and there, but nothing I can't scrounge up. I've had much more spartan accommodations than this in the past." He looked around at the basics, a bed, a desk with a lamp, a bookshelf and a basic trunk. "Thank God there's personal bathrooms... Ooh, nice, showers too."

"Well, I suppose I should let you get comfortable here," Pyrrha said as she decided to give him some time alone with his thoughts; Even though he was good at masking it, she could see he was a mental whirlwind of emotions and thoughts.

"Right, right. I, uh, I hope to see you guys in class, though Ruby's offered to help me with making a melee weapon of some kind; Between you and me, I think she wanted to make my gun some kinda funky shapeshifting gun like her's."

That got a laugh out of Pyrrha: if there was one thing that Pyrrha knew about Ruby, it was that she was obsessed with weapons, perhaps to a bit of an extreme. "I don't necessarily see anything wrong with that idea."

"Ah, maybe, maybe not, I'll figure it out; I always do someway or another."

"Alright, well I will leave you to your devices."

She turned to leave, but was stopped when she heard him call out her name.

"Pyrrha, I uh..."

She turned to find him looking flustered and obviously mentally stumbling over what to say.

"...I just wanted to say... thank you. For the Aura bit and all that. That means a lot to me, really."

She couldn't help but smile at him, "It's not a problem at all. Hope I see you in the sparring ring!"

"Right back at you!" He let out one last confident smile and cheery laugh as she left the room and closed the door behind her.

Though about 5 seconds later she swore she heard something like groans coming from his room...

* * *

"I was so not fucking prepared for that!" Jacob screamed into a pillow on the bed as his emotions came to a head, the memories flashing back to him; Pyrrha's death, Penny's death, Yang's dismemberment, Blake's wounds, Ruby's despairing face, Jaune's sorrow...

For several minutes, he felt like his head was going to pop off his neck and roll about on the ground like a droideka. Coupled with the urge to cry as the little gremlin in his mind dared to start playing "Cold" again, he was lucky that no one else would enter the room at the moment, lest they think him a madman.

 _What have I gotten myself into... Oh Lord on High, what have I gotten myself into?..._

* * *

 **Well, that was a fun experiment in writing new dialogue for existing characters. *Feels like passing out***

 **Well, next chapter's gonna be a little different, mostly just our protagonist on his own with his thoughts and emotions. Will he make a girl a promise he can't keep?**

 **A always, reviews are welcome, critiques I only ask are of a constructive intent, and I hope you continue to enjoy this series.**

 **Until then, I'll see you guys... in the next chapter. Buh-bye~!**


	7. Getting a Grip on the Premise

**You know, these chapters are getting REALLY long REALLY frequently. Whatever, on with the show!**

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Getting a Grip on the Premise**

 _Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin._ — _Mother Theresa_

* * *

It was around 20 minutes after Pyrrha Nikos had left his new dorm at Beacon Academy that Jacob was able to fully begin wrapping his head around the predicament he was currently in.

God, even that concept alone set his head in a proverbial tailspin.

"Jesus Tapdancing Fuck!" He screamed into a pillow, desperately avoiding to stomp the floor out of courtesy for those on the floors below him. _I'm a student to an Academy on a planet that is not my own, in a star system that is definitely not my own, in a galaxy probably not my own, in a Universe that's potentially not my own! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING MULLER!? You should be trying to find a way back home! Hell, you shouldn't even BE here!_

And as usual when he was upset, he would start pacing in circles as he let his mind run its course. He spent around 5 solid minutes just pacing to calm his nerves as his brain worked overtime to process the last 2 hours he had spent conscious.

He woke up in Beacon Academy.

He met Ruby Rose, the next Silver Eyed Maiden... whatever that entailed long-term.

He met Ozpin and essentially BLACKMAILED his way into Beacon's student body through Amber, the Fall Maiden. Probably not that smart a move.

He met—rather, met back up with—Jaune Arc and Pyrrha Nikos. That in and of itself was enough to throw him off greatly. And she happened to awaken his Aura.

 _Well, that's a helluva boon,_ he chuckled in his mind.

Now, here he was, alone with a dorm all to himself and his backpack. His last piece of home, as it were.

Fucking hell, he needed some water or something. He rushed to the restroom, turning the water in the sink to full blast to splash his face so he may at least attempt to clear his mind.

About that time he looked up into the mirror over the sink. _Time to see how much of a visual mark I made on them._

Well, the good news was, he wasn't sporting any new scars, his forehead wasn't greasy from four days of no shower usage, and his goatee-mustache was still relatively short, though he was starting to work on a chin strap that would give him the Obi-Wan/Riker look.

The bad news was—if it really could be called bad—is that the image staring back at him looked like him... but was distinctly... animesque.

wider-than normal eyes, smaller nose—even smaller than it had already been—with barely a bridge to be seen, smaller-than-normal mouth... yeah, he looked like he belonged on Remnant.

Part of him wanted to shout out in shock. But honestly, he had enough of screaming for right now; time to actually take something well for a change.

 _I wonder..._ He flashed his teeth in the reflection; sure enough, the 10-odd years of lightweight staining from tea-drinking had disappeared, leaving him with a good set of pearly whites. "Well, that's one less thing to worry about. Granted, that left incisor turning is still a problem..." he lamented to no one as he checked the rest of himself. Nothing else to report, he was otherwise the same as he had been on Earth, broad shoulders and all. Really the only thing was that his face fit far more into the crowd now, sharing the features common in any anime, and by extension in _RWBY._

It was going to be a bitch to get used to seeing that in the mirror every morning.

Deciding enough was enough, Jacob returned to the main room to start unpacking what was inside his backpack. Out came everything; his Bible, _The Art of War_ , the sketchpad, the RWBY Steelbox, _The Flight of the Eisenstein_ —

His brain hit the brakes as he looked back at the RWBY Steelbox now sitting on his bed. Inside he had all three of the first three seasons—The Beacon Arc they called it—and with it a copied disc of Season 4's episodes—Although he had also downloaded them all to his phone for on-the-go viewing. Thank God for Youtube and all that.

Inside this box was essentially the future of this world, written down—or rather animated—and set in stone.

Including _The End of the Beginning_.

A pit formed in Jacob's stomach as he took in the solemn note. Here he was, in this reality, essentially between _The Badge and the Burden_ and _Jaunedice_ in the timeline, months out from the Battle of Beacon.

Months out from Cinder's attack.

Muller felt a strong draw of hatred now to that name, far more than he had back on Earth; Sure, he hated her guts for killing Pyrrha, but it was just a show.

But now it wasn't. Pyrrha was real. Cinder was real.

And the latter would kill the former in a few months' time.

Pyrrha Nikos had only months to live.

Jacob felt his breakfast wanting to escape his stomach. Bearing in mind how he had his father's cast iron stomach, that was saying a lot. Whether it was anger or fear or whatever it was, it was enough to incite rebellion of a sort.

He sat down in the chair that came with the desk, continuing to rummage through his bag to clear his mind. As he had noticed before, _Fight of the Eisenstein_ —a Horus Heresy novel—had made its way into his backpack; the only problem was he didn't own any of the Heresy novels. Hell, not even any normal 40K novels were part of his library, and yet during his digging he found a copy of _The Traitor's Hand_ , one of the Ciaphas Cain novels.

 _As much as I wanted to read these two, why the hell do I have all these books in here? I don't even own these two, and the rest of these..._

The latter he was referring to were the assortment of 6th and 7th Edition codexes floating about as well. He owned some of them—Particularly most if not all of the Imperium's codexes sans the Inquisition's—but not one of the alien or Chaos ones he found as well he could claim ownership of.

 _...I can't even begin to divine why these are here._

He opted to leave the codexes somewhere safe and hidden away, lest someone find them and start asking questions; Just great, another piece of incriminating evidence to reveal where he was actually from.

Continuing to fish through, he came upon his various Character models and decided to set them on the desk; those he could at least sign off as generic toys of sentimental value; technically that description was not wrong. His Inquisitor, a Space Marine Terminator Cataphractii Captain—a model he was particularly proud of creating—, a Lady Commissar, a Tempestor Prime and his Bike Chaplain took up spots on the desk overlooking his study area, in a sense as totems watching over him. He chuckled darkly at that idea. _Guess old habits die hard_ , he thought as he remembered how often he did similar with his other toys as a child.

Setting out his sketchpad for later, everything else was pulled out from the bag, including a few more novels— _Holy crap, did my bag turn into a TARDIS or something?_ —and his power chords, which fortunately worked with the standard plug-ins to allow him to start charging his phone. Jacob immediately flopped into his chair, still mentally digesting everything that had happened to him. Twiddling a penny from his wallet in his hand—another thing he often did to occupy his mind and calm his nerves—he ran over his current position.

 _Okay, okay, so... you know the future here._

 _You know the death-dates of several characters here. Namely Oz, Penny... and Pyrrha._

He clutched the penny in his hand tightly, the terrible idea of having to watch them die—only now in the flesh instead of through a television monitor—darkening his mood.

 _You know their enemy... sorta._

 _You know the Maidens... sorta._

 _You know what's at stake... sorta._

 _...Fucking a, I'm way too in over my head._

He clutched his head in exasperation. How out of his league was he _now_ in comparison to when he was in the Emerald Forest? Leaps and bounds, to be certain.

 _What can one man do to change fate... CAN I change fate?_ The thought of watching Pyrrha die, of Penny being drawn and quartered by her own weapons, of Yang slipping into her depression... having to see it in person no less...

It was maddening.

But something in him began to whisper... Not like a voice in his head like a delusion, mind you, more like his conscience actively trying to tell him something through his subconscious.

 _Stand..._

Just then, he heard a knock at the door.

"Oh, uh, hang on!" He got to his feet and was at the door in record time, opening it to reveal his visitor.

"Ruby?"

"Hay Jacob! Just wanted to drop by and... well, see how you're doing." She was obviously a bit nervous as she twiddled her thumbs; He remembered she was kind of socially-awkward.

"Oh, uhm, pretty good thus far... Just, uh, been getting my room fixed up and all... though I do kinda feel awful about getting one all by my lonesome."

"Ah, well, you got us for neighbors, so that... counts for something, I guess." Ruby rocked on her heels, no doubt looking for either an excuse to cut the conversation off at the proverbial knees or another conversation piece.

The two stood in the doorframe in their awkward silence.

About that time, Ruby's eyes darted over in the direction of his desk. The curious look in her eyes told him she had seen his Warhammer characters.

"Hey, what are those?"

Shit. _Didn't think that through, did ya Jacob?_

"Hmm?" Jacob mused in faked confusion.

"On your desk," she said as she maneuvered past him.

"Oh, those are some plastic models from home. Just some personal effects as it were," he said while mentally sweating bullets. "Made them myself, painted them all as well. They're kinda... kinda my reminders of home, as it were..."

Ruby moved to pick up one of them—the Terminator Captain—studying the model closely. Jacob's heart for the second time in a row today began to thunder in his chest.

"You like artsy stuff?"

"Uh, yeah, I sketch, I paint; It, uh, it's kinda relaxing for me for when I just start stressing out and need to... need to get my thoughts together and all that." _Stumbling over your words, I thought you were past this Jacob._

"Neat. I've always had an admiration for craftsmen like that."

He felt his blood pressure begin to level out. "Really? I mean, all things considered you should consider yourself amongst them, what with that scythe of yours."

She set down the Captain and turned, the hopeful gleam in her eyes at the mention of Crescent Rose telling him that he had her undivided attention. "You really think so?"

"Oh yeah, no doubt about it; Takes a skilled hand to forge something like that, and an even better hand to wield it."

She began to wear the most adorable blush on her cheeks, more evident than on most people by her pale complexion. "Well, I mean, yeah, weapons have always been kinda my thing..."

Muller shrugged his shoulders in affirmation. "I know the feeling; always wanted to make my own of some kind, but it never was really that practical back home. Usually was smarter to just get a pistol or rifle and use that in tandem with a knife or something."

Ruby's silver eyes migrated over to him as she asked, "But what about Huntsmen and Huntresses?"

"Well..." Jacob started, trying to come up with a story to work off of. "Yeah, Huntsmen were kinda rare back home," he lied through his teeth. "We always had a habitual tendency to go it alone anyhow. Better to be able to go solo if necessity arises then be hamstrung when there's no help to come." That last part was no lie, considering the American philosophy of war.

"But what about the Grimm?"

"They die just as easily by cutting them to pieces as by pouring firepower downrange. Only difference is one's dangerous but brave and the other's practical but cowardly."

Ruby gave him a look that said she didn't agree with him all that much.

"Hey, that doesn't mean I don't approve of melee. If anything I think more people ought to do it; Sometimes the smart thing isn't the most noble thing."

That seemed to hit a chord with her as the cheery smile returned to her face. "Well, in that case Mr. Muller, you oughta look into getting more than just that pistol."

He sighed in exasperation as an old thought came back to him. "Right, only problem is I don't know what exactly suits me. I mean, I'm not exactly agile nor am I that strong, but I've always waffled about what weapon defines me; after all, a weapon is—"

"—An extension of one's self!" He and Ruby finished in tandem before sharing a laugh.

"Oh my stars, I didn't think anyone else thought like that!"

"Well, a person's weapon is kinda their signature, you can tell a lot about them by the tools of battle they wield."

"In that sense," Ruby said through a giggle, "What kind of weapon do you like?"

"That's just it, the most I've ever had an opportunity to use are knives, clubs or axes," the second referring to his time playing baseball in his youth and the third referring to his time splitting wood on camping trips. Sure it was about as much experience as a Call of Duty player saying they could wield a full-auto assault rifle but it was better than nothing.

Ruby looked off to the side, pondering his answer with an audible hum of thought. "...Tell you what, come down to the sparring ring later this evening and I'll help you out."

"Oh, you sure? Well, thank you," Jacob replied, "That's, uh, that's very kind of you."

Ruby flashed a kind smile. "Hey, that's what friends are for, right?"

...

...

 _Friends?_

"Friends?"

"Yeah, I mean, if you want to be friends..."

"Well, I mean, yeah, I would like to be friends, but I must confess I've never made a friend that quickly before. I mean, I didn't imagine you were one for being a social butterfly, uh, no offense."

"Well... I guess I'm starting to figure out you need some friends. You can't go it alone as much as you may think... or as much as I thought." She shared a genuine smile that melted his heart. _Goddamn she's cute as a button, who could say no to those puppy-dog eyes?_

"I suppose it is the wiser thing to do to find friends in this world. Okay, Ruby," he outstretched his left in a handshake, "let's start it off proper; Hi, I'm Jacob Muller."

Her hand stretched out to meet his, both holding a gentle grasp on one another's hand.

"Ruby Rose."

* * *

After about ten more minutes of chatting and planning out the next few days—It turned out today was a Friday so tomorrow was the start of the weekend and an opportunity for Jacob to prep up for classes—Ruby departed for her dorm, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

 _Did I just become friends with Ruby Rose... just like that?_

"This day just keeps throwing things at me, doesn't it?"

He leaned back on his chair, his mind deep in contemplation as he stared above into the ceiling.

 _Stand..._

There were those words again, just as cryptic as before. Stand... for what? Stand against? Stand in defiance? Stand proud? What was his subconscious trying to tell him?

 _In the meantime,_ he mused to himself, _Might as well hit the shower. I probably stink like a corpse._

He stood there in the scalding hot water for a solid five minutes before setting to his task, just letting the aches and tire work their way out of his system. His mind was compartmentalizing the last fifteen minutes he had spent with Ruby, taking in every minute of their conversation.

 _...I swear nothing could ever bring her spirits down. Always beaming, always happy..._

About that time her horrified face from _PvP_ and _The End of The Beginning_ zoomed by his mind's eye as if to flip him the bird.

 _...Even after that she didn't give up._

He began to play Season 4 in his head, Ruby's trials and triumphs bringing a subconscious smile to him.

 _No better a hero than that, I guess._

And then Jaune flashed in his mind.

Poor kid.

 _That poor bastard's going through hell and high-water more so than I could be really, yet I'm the one sitting here getting a hella hand up as it were; Oz offered me attendance directly, Pyrrha awakened my Aura... Ruby's offering to train me._

 _This isn't right. He needs their help more than I do._

His head made impact with the wall in exasperation. "What am I gonna do..."

About that time Pyrrha flashed by his mind's eye too.

And his over-analytical side began to crunch numbers.

 _Always on a pedestal, never allowed to be a normal girl back home. She's trying to run from her fame._

an arrow zoomed through his thoughts.

 _Little did she know that her fame would go to her head..._

His mind played back the scene of her gasping as the arrow skewered her heart, reaching out... to Ruby.

 _Stand..._

He felt his fist clench tightly around his _cross pattée_ , his one signature necklace that he wore at all times.

"No."

The room was eerily quiet, save for the sound of the running water.

"No, I won't let that happen."

 _Knowledge is power, guard it well..._

 _"I_ know what's coming. I saw it. And I can fix it."

 _None shall find us wanting..._

The water was cut as he returned to his clothes. He found a razor set in amongst the toiletries provided, and quickly trimmed up his beard and 'stache. By the time he was done, he was looking back at the same man who had first arrived here. His brows furrowed as he stared back at his reflection.

"You wanna save her so bad, Jacob? Well then, let's get to work."

Another knock at the front door.

 _Wonder who that is?_

He was still rolling things around in his head when he was met at the door by Professor Ozpin, still holding his mug that for all intents and purposes was refilled with a fresh brew. _Jesus, how much coffee does he drink?_

"Ah, Mr. Muller," Ozpin said with a hint of relief, "I was wondering if you were busy exploring the Academy grounds."

"Me? Nah, I figured I might as well get things settled and set up BEFORE I start to get cabin fever," he affirmed with a finishing chuckle.

Ozpin attempted to suppress a chuckle himself, no doubt wanting to keep an air of professionalism. "Well, as long as you have some time to spare, I would like you to come with me for a few minutes in regards to... certain subjects."

Another pit settled in Jacob's stomach; He was talking about Amber, no doubt about it. "Uh, if it is what I think it is than by all means, Professor."

"Excellent, follow me please."

The walk over was short, but Ozpin seemed to be taking his time, as if to test Muller's patience. _Probably checking to see how I react._

It was during the walk through the main courtyard that Ozpin spoke up. "Tell me, Mr. Muller, how much do you know of the Maidens?"

Jacob suppressed the smirk trying to worm its way off his face. "Well, I do know there's four of them, one for each season obviously. I know they're straight-up magic, not some Dust manipulation trick or something like that. I know only ladies can be Maidens and that the power transfers to the last person on their mind before they..." He struggled to finish his sentence as the memory of Amber's passing in _Heroes and Monsters,_ "...Before they pass."

"You seem well-versed in the subject. How did you come across this knowledge, if I may ask?" Ozpin's tone was dangerous, expecting Jacob to say something incriminating.

"I, uh, I met Amber a while back," he fibbed, "and I caught her in the middle of using the Maiden's powers against some Grimm; it was off the beaten path as it were and I was travelling at the time to meet up with some old friends. She swore me to secrecy, and I willingly took an oath of silence on the subject. Then she gave me the rundown of the whole situation, or at least what she was willing to tell. Ever since then I've been doing my own research into the subject, looking for whatever knowledge I could on the matter, 'fairy tale' or not."

By now they were stopped in front of the massive stone fountain that dominated the courtyard; the swordsman with his blade raised high stared off to the south, scanning for threats beyond the Beowolf crawling its way from underneath the stone they stood atop.

"And what of... her?"

 _Salem._ Jacob's brow furrowed; Ironically enough, he was moot on finer details as well, since the show had left watchers in the dark for the most part about Salem herself.

"The most I know about her is also from Amber; someone with a connection to the Grimm, pale as a ghost, a schemer if ever there existed one, and has contacts all over Hell and Creation. Other than that, I will admit that was mostly a shallow bargaining chip."

Ozpin chuckled as he took another sip of coffee. "I seem to be in the presence of a burgeoning strategist; That was a risky move all things considered."

"I tend to play close to the hands in poker, I run foolish gambits after holding the line for a bit on the rare occasion I play chess, and in W—" He caught himself before he could spill the beans on Warhammer, "—Well, in most strategy games I will play a slow-moving but sure-hitting strategy. But a good strategist knows when there is the time to plan and the time to act, and I figured this was one of those times for the latter." He grinned as he looked over at the fountain. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Ozpin staring at him intensely.

"Then... I'm afraid I have some bad news for you."

 _Time to act again._

"What do you mean?" Jacob asked.

"...Come with me." Ozpin began to walk back towards the Tower where his office was... and where Amber was being kept alive down below-ground.

Jacob grimaced as he caught up with Ozpin, continuing to play the part he had crafted for himself. "Is... is she alright?"

Ozpin remained quiet as they entered the Tower and came up to the elevator. Getting in, he activated a panel that revealed a keypad. _A passcode, of course._ While Ozpin plugged in the numbers, Jacob looked ahead in pretend that he wasn't actually watching the passcode out of the corner of his vision.

0-7-1-8-1-3.

 _Gotta remember that code. Remember, the day after Disneyland's 58th anniversary. Though... that sounds familiar from another perspective. What is it... Gah, whatever._

It was a solid minute-long elevator ride down to The Vault; if Jacob had to guess they were probably about 700 or so feet below the school based on how fast it was going to how long it took. The doors opened to reveal The Vault in all of its low-light, unfeasibly-long glory.

"Wow..."

"Indeed." Ozpin didn't even take an opportunity for Jacob to take it all in before he began walking down the corridor.

"As you probably know by now, Mr. Muller, the Maidens are not alone in this endeavor of holding back the darkness; our organization has been crucial in protecting them from outside forces, as well as making certain that... unsavory individuals do not receive the Maidens' powers. Tell me, do you know how the Maidens' powers work outside of what they can do?"

"I know that when a Maiden passes on that the power transfers to the last young woman that is in their thoughts; Men or older women have no access to the power and if it is not passed on to a younger woman in the previous Maiden's thoughts that it essentially does a planet-wide game of darts to see who gets the power."

"I see you're well informed; that will certainly make things easier as you're already up to speed. However, that being said, this method of power transfer is a double edged sword, as if the Maiden is attacked and killed in battle there is a potential for the power to taken by the attacker, so long as they fit the criteria."

"I... I think I know where this is going."

Ozpin's gaze lowered as he continued. "Recently, Amber was... was attacked, by an unknown assailant. We don't know much about them, but we believe the attackers work for Salem in some fashion; mercenaries, vagabonds, perhaps someone within her inner circle, but we can't say for certain."

 _I could give you SEVERAL names as to who did this,_ Jacob venomously spat in his mind.

"While the efforts of one of our compatriots managed to save her from being killed then and there—" Muller's mind immediately flashed to Qrow, "—she is currently in critical condition... and part of the Fall Maiden's powers have been stolen."

"By the attacker no doubt," Jacob hissed audibly.

"We have never seen this kind of incident before, and we are not prepared for what it could entail." Ozpin stopped as they finally came to the stasis pod that housed the poor girl.

And there, sleeping in her pod, unable to fully wake, on the verge of death, was Amber.

"Amber..." Jacob whispered. He walked up to the pod, watching her steady but shallow breath rise and fall in her chest. Her vitals looked stable judging by all the readouts on the medical gear around the pod, but Jacob knew how that wouldn't matter in... however many months till the Vytal Festival. He was surprised by how beautiful she was, even with that ugly burn-scar over her left eye. He placed his hand over the glass, trying to give her a comforting hand, however futile a gesture it would be.

In his promise to save Penny and to save Pyrrha... only now did he realize a hard, hard truth.

 _Not everyone will make it out alive. Some people I won't have the opportunity to save._

 _She is condemned to death, whether by arrow or failure of body._

It wasn't right; It may be set in stone now, but it wasn't right. The show hadn't shown much of her, never let her have a moment to be seen as a person... and her death was hollow to those back home. Whereas Penny and Pyrrha were wept for by hundreds... none would weep for the Fall Maiden.

He felt a lone tear run down his cheek.

 _I'm so sorry, Amber._

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" He heard Ozpin ask.

Jacob stifled a sniffle and replied, "I, uh, I-I'm not sure."

"She's alright for now, but I can't imagine she'll fully recover... I'm sorry."

They stood there in silence for what felt like an hour, but was only mere minutes.

"I, uh," Jacob began, "I should probably get going. There's nothing I can really do."

"I understand. But I hope you understand the crisis we are in," Ozpin replied.

"You-you keep referring to 'we', who else is part of your—or more like our—organization?"

"Well, you've already met Glynda, as she is part of the Beacon branch along with myself. The headmasters of the other Academies are also part of our force, and we each have plenty of field agents. We are not a very small group by any means, but we are small enough to be far from noticeable."

 _Ironwood... and that traitor Lionheart._

Jacob sighed under his breath. "Well, I guess I should get started with training, right?"

"Indeed. I heard from Ms. Rose that you were in need of a better weapon than your pistol."

"Well, she suggested I go for something along the lines of the rest of the student body's weapons. Can't fight a Grimm constantly backpedaling and shooting, right?"

"Never put all your eggs in one basket, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jacob chuckled as the somberness began to ease. "I-Thank you, Professor, for letting me see her."

Ozpin only smiled and nodded before taking another sip of his coffee. _If that stuff is still hot, he must be making it with Vulkan He'Stan's forges as the flame for the kettle._

"Alright, well... I'll catch you later, Professor."

"Take care, Mr. Muller."

Muller began to return to the elevator as Ozpin continued to monitor Amber. Meanwhile, Muller's mind was a roaring engine, planning, preparing and fortifying itself for what was to come.

It was time to find a weapon. It was time to find HIS weapon.

* * *

 **Jesus Christ on A Bicycle Riding to Mass on a Sunday, this is getting tough to do this once a week! I'll keep it up as much as I can, but It can guarantee nothing.**

 **That last little bit came as a bit of realization as I was writing out the scene, how as much as we all cry for Penny and Pyrrha and... Roman, apparently, Amber's death was no less a loss; we as the audience just didn't get a chance to see what she was like outside of the flashback in _The Beginning of the End._**

 **Next chapter, the wand shall choose the wiz-WAIT. I mean, the weapon shall choose the warrior... or something like that. Will i get something practical, something impractical, something vaguely Warhammer-esque?**

 **The fuck if I know, I'm still trying to decide.**

 **Anywho, review, favorite, follow, do whatever you please, and I will see you guys... in the next chapter. Buh-bye~!**


	8. The Weapons We Wield

**Time to get down to business... _To defeat the Huns~!_**

 ** _*_ SLAP***

 **I deserved that...**

* * *

 **Chapter 8: The Weapons We Wield**

 _The wand chooses the wizard... It's not always clear why. But I think it is clear that we can expect great things from you. -Garrick Ollivander, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_

* * *

As Jacob took the elevator back to the ground level from The Vault it began to register in his mind how daunting a task it was that he had set himself up with. While the student body around him—RWBY and JNPR included—were busy trying to get good marks and graduate as Huntsman and Huntresses, Muller was stuck with an incomprehensible task ahead: Saving as many people as he could from the Battle of Beacon.

 _On the one hand_ , he debated in his mind, _most people would immediately jump to the idea that I shouldn't tamper with the timeline at all, let them die and or get maimed; To those fuckwits I would bequeath... a boot to the head._

The clip of _Last Will and Temperament_ played in his head in tandem, elevating his mood ever so slightly.

 _Another option that would be tossed out would be to outright tell them about it, which would either end with me in the looney bin or in a completely different timeline that could very well put even more people in harm's way._ His mind flashed a terrible image of Yang AND Blake lying dead on the floor at Adam's feet as an attempt at exemplifying what he meant.

 _That is something I will not do; I must stay the course of canon... up until the Battle, of course._

His eyebrows were locked into a thoughtful furrow as he brainstormed his plan of attack. _The question of the hour is, how do I save Pyrrha? Better yet, can I save Penny? Perhaps by preventing Penny's death I may put a stopper in Cinder's—No, no, that goes back to the latter train of thought. Maybe? Yes? No? Jesus, what do I do?_

He glanced upwards towards the sky, still out of his vision by the insane concrete and dirt barrier that kept Amber safe from Cinder and Salem's reach, at least for now.

"If you're there, Lord, I could use an epiphany or two right about now."

Silence.

"I thought not," he whimpered as his hunched and sighed with his hands in his pockets like a 90s grunger.

He sat in silence the rest of the way, his mind eating away at every conceivable option and strategy he tossed its way.

When the doors at the top of the shaft slid open he was expecting to see naught more but the courtyard in front of him. Instead, he was greeted by the stern glare of Glynda Goodwitch.

 _Oh boy, here we go,_ Jacob lamented in his mind with the voice of Jon Jafari.

"Oh, hello Professor Goodwitch."

He was met with more of her glare.

"...I take it something's on your mind."

Silence.

 _Again, Good Witch of the North my ass._

"Well," he hesitated, "If you've not got anything to address, I need to get going, Ms. Rose was gonna help me with... figuring... out..." He wilted under her gaze, the sentence dying in his throat.

"...Christ-Lord Above, do you give all your students this look or am I special?"

He edged his way out of the elevator as she replaced his position. "My apologies," Glynda said with the faintest venom to her voice, "I was just on the way down to see how... our other guest is at the moment."

"Amber's alright for now," Jacob muttered loud enough for her to hear but low enough for no one else to hear outside of that bubble, "But... I wouldn't put too much hope into her getting back up anytime soon." _More like ever,_ he thought to himself guiltily.

Glynda's hardened features softened ever so little, enough to say that his words had made their impact. Before they could continue further, the elevator doors began to close.

Or at least that would have been the case had Glynda not held open the door with her riding crop.

"Bear in mind, Mr. Muller," she began, "You are in a very precarious position at the moment. You're not just training to be a Huntsman—late out of the gate mind you, which already puts you at a horrible disadvantage to even the likes of Mr. Arc—But now you are among _our_ ranks. And that means you will need to be ready for anything."

"...and you either don't trust me or you think I will fail horribly."

She never answered him, instead removing the crop from the elevator's sensors and allowing the doors to close. Muller sat there in silence as he began to doubt if he really could pull this off; As much as he had knowledge of the immediate future as it were, it was still a daunting task ahead of him.

There was no way he could pull it off.

 _NO. Stop that, Jacob, you finally got over being a doom-and-gloomer back home, you are not going to let that happen here._

Shaking his head, he decided to return to his quarters to wait out the evening and prep up for... ugh, classes.

 _And I thought community college classes were an interesting hurdle, this is essentially Monster Hunter University..._

* * *

It was 2:10 when Jacob finally walked through the door to his dorm room, having taken an hour or so to wander the grounds and scout out key locations for his stay. Most of the students were in class at the moment giving him almost-completely free roam of the campus; it was weird to be back on an isolated campus, something he hadn't done since his failed attempt at university attendance. Regardless, he would eventually get used to the notion... in theory.

 _Not like it's gonna matter for very long._

Seeing Amber in her stasis pod was more than a little sobering. It was as if he had been mentally been punched in the gut, if that made any sense; the overarching dread threatening to consume him.

Plopping into his chair, he realized he would probably be waiting for a few hours before he could meet up with RWBY and Company, considering they were no doubt in the middle of class. _No one to chat with, really... if I keep letting the shadow hang over my head for too long I'm gonna start thinking like a friggin' manic-depressive._

He feared that continuing on such a mental path would not bode well for anyone, especially himself; He'd seen himself once before on the edge of despair, now was not the time to repeat the past. He needed to occupy his mind somehow, even if barely for a little bit.

Checking his phone—which was no doubt a relic technologically in comparison to the Scrolls that Huntsmen and Huntresses were equipped with—Jacob was happy to find that the battery had fully charged in the time he was out of the room. At the same time he glanced over at his open sketchpad, open to a fresh sheet and pencil still clinging on to the ringlets.

"...Might as well brainstorm while I'm sitting here, otherwise I'm sitting here with my thumb up my ass instead."

As he set pencil to paper to occupy his mind, he started up his phone's playlists and let his mind wander with the music.

The first song on his shuffled playlist?

 _They see you as small and helpless_

 _They see you as just a child,_

 _s_ _urprised when they find out that a warrior will soon run wild..._

He couldn't help but let a ironically-amused grin escape his lips.

* * *

 _..._

 _..._

 _Stars above, can this class just PLEASE FINISH UP!?_

Ruby Rose was not in the mood to deal with a lecture. Her mind had been wandering all day about the plans for the next few days with her new team—and sister team, of course—and their new 9th wheel... Although it was kinda rude to call him that.

Currently she was attending one of Professor Peach's lectures on... something or other, but she could hardly pay attention to that. It was closing in on 4:00 in the afternoon and she had plans to help out her new friend with a crucial aspect of being a Hunter.

Namely having a melee weapon.

When she had first left after their brief chat, she was floored to hear he didn't have a melee weapon outside of a basic pocket knife, that thus far he had been surviving on his firearm only. If he was going to be a Huntsman, he needed a weapon that could go into melee; something that spoke about him as a warrior, as a protector of humanity as it were. Ruby had then spent the next few hours coming up with ideas for weapons. He was on the shorter side for a guy—in fact he was only an inch taller than her—and the way he was built it was far from likely he was very agile. Barrel-chested, large shoulders, yeah it was more than likely that agility was probably not something he was particularly specialized in, though his Aura would certainly start giving him a boost.

 _Maybe an axe? It's a good weapon for stronger folks... although I doubt he's all that strong, I didn't see that much muscle in his arms. Ooh, maybe he and Jaune will be sword-buddies! Yeah, that could work? OOH, maybe I can teach him how to wield a scythe, than we can both be super cool scythe-wielders! Or, or_ —

A sharp jab in her left shoulder brought her back to reality. Glancing over she spotted Weiss giving her the stink-eye for daydreaming in class. Ruby's embarrassment was probably palpable to everyone around her after that.

Regardless, she was intrigued on what weapon he would choose. I mean there were some unconventional ones like that awesome purse Coco Adel had; when Ruby had first seen it transform into a freaking MINIGUN during sparring earlier today she about fainted on the spot. It took her team a solid minute to stop her from swooning completely into unconsciousness. However, he could always choose something relatively basic, something a little more ho-hum.

 _...Nah, this guy's not that normal. He'll pick something cool, I'm sure of it!_

Right about then the bell for class to end rang loud and clear.

Had Ruby any less self-restraint she would have darted out of the classroom and have been back to the dorms to grab Jacob before anyone else had left the lecture hall. Fortunately for him, she was starting to feel hungry.

"Anyone else up for dinner real quick before we meet Jacob?" Ruby asked as the group entered the main hallway.

"Meet him for what?" Blake asked, the confusion evident in her voice.

"Ruby wanted to help him get the right kind of weapon," Yang answered, "So they were gonna meet at the sparring range later this evening to have him test some different weapons."

"Wait, doesn't he already have his pistol? And what about that pocket knife?"

"Uh, you don't remember how _little_ that dinky knife did to that Ursa?"

Blake cocked an eyebrow in contemplation. "Good point," she answered a few seconds later.

Weiss chimed in seconds later. "I honestly don't understand why you—why anyone, really—is sticking their neck out for this guy."

Ruby looked back at her partner in confusion and a bit of hurt. "Weiss, he needs help; He's not going to get far as a Huntsman if he isn't prepared—"

"Exactly my point!" Weiss' hands flew up in exasperation as the team continued down the hallway towards the dorms. "He has no formal training, he didn't even have his Aura active until just this morning, he doesn't even have a weapon outside of a pistol and knife; the weapons of a vagabond, mind you! I honestly think it was a mistake on Professor Ozpin's part that he's even attending with us," she finished while crossing her arms in front of her. Honestly, it reminded Ruby of Yang's tantrums when they were younger, just after she had discovered her Semblance.

"You just won't give him the chance, will you Schnee?" Blake sassed at Weiss under her breath. Sadly, Weiss heard her.

"Until he proves himself, I'm not going to be lenient on him. Now, if you excuse me, I'm off to get dinner." She began to walk off in a huff, leaving her teammates behind as she stomped away. Ruby felt a little hurt by her words; How can Jacob "prove himself" to Weiss if she won't give him the chance? About that time she felt a hand on her shoulder, that upon looking towards the source of the touch revealed Pyrrha and the rest of JNPR had caught up with them. "Oh, hi Pyrrha."

"I'm certain Ms. Schnee will come around in time," Pyrrha assured the young Huntress with a kindly smile. "She just needs a chance to see his potential."

Ruby sighed reluctantly. "Thanks. I honestly don't know how to get her to be more friendly."

"I think I could give it a try," Jaune said as he slid up beside them flashing his confident smile, "It shouldn't be too hard to thaw her out, if you catch my drift."

 _Gods, what a wannabe_ _casanova_ , Ruby giggled in amusement as his awkward but confident smile said all she needed to know about what he meant by that. "Hey, do you guys wanna come down to the sparring ring later? We're gonna see what kinda weapon Jacob is best suited with."

"Him? honestly, well..." Jaune started, "I honestly have no clue. I mean, he's been pretty impressive with that pistol, maybe he should just stick to that."

"It would serve him well to equip a melee weapon of some kind," Pyrrha countered. "As to what that would be... I would think he seems to be well-suited for blunt weapons; perhaps he and Nora may both be wielding hammers." A gasp from behind the group alerted them to Nora's presence.

"What about an axe?"

"Well, it is an easy weapon to learn, but it is hard to master."

"Sword?" Jaune countered.

"I think he was worried about originality," Ruby mentioned, gesturing back at Jaune to make her point.

"Well, I'm sure he'll figure something out," answered Pyrrha, sporting her usual cheery smile.

They spent the rest of the walk to the cafeteria talking about other things, mainly class and homework and plans for their first weekend at Beacon Academy. Team JNPR didn't actually have a plan in regards to the weekend, mainly deciding to wing it. Ren did mention something about wanting to wander about Vale on Saturday to check out the city and the downtown area for future reference, whereas Nora was adamant about picking up some decorations for the room. Team RWBY on the other hand had plans to study and hold down the fort as it were.

By the time they had reached the cafeteria, the conversation had migrated to the upcoming Vytal Festival; it was pretty certain that both teams would compete and both were hoping to take top spot.

"Hey, do you guys remember when it is?" Yang asked through shovelling her meal into her mouth.

"If I recall correctly," Ren answered, sipping on an evening tea, "it starts 6 months out from now and it'll run for about... 4 weeks if I recall?"

"Sounds about right," came Pyrrha, having already finished her surprisingly spartan meal.

Ruby couldn't help but delight in the notion of being part of the Vytal Festival. "Ooh, I'm so excited!" she said as she bounced in her seat.

"It should certainly be something to remember," Pyrrha replied in earnest, the large smile on her face more than telling of her excitement in participating.

After they finished, both teams decided to make a beeline for the dorms to pick up Jacob, since they figured it was doubtful he had the actual layout of the school memorized by now.

But as they approached his dorm, they began to notice a very faint sound in the background.

"Uh, does anyone else hear snare drums?" commented Yang. Everyone nodded in agreement. Even behind the door to his room, it was ever so slightly audible to them; snare drums playing in a military march beat.

Ruby knocked on the door to his room and was quickly greeted by Jacob, whom for the most part seemed to have been drawing or writing or something judging by the pencil nestled in the crook of his ear.

"Oh, hey guys, I was just about to head out to find the sparring ring. Sorry, is the music too loud?" he gestured behind him at his... Scroll? Honestly the more Ruby looked at it the less she was convinced it was a Scroll; no holo-screen, solid piece of what she assumed was steel and glass.

About that time the song began to take on lyrics in tune to the drums.

 _I've got the reach and the teeth of a killing machine,_

 _with the need to bleed you when the light goes green_

 _Best believe I'm in the zone to be_

 _From my yin to my_ —

The lyrics cut out as Jacob dashed over and paused it, looking slightly embarrassed if anything. "I, uh, I've got some distant family in the military. I've admired their commitment to the cause, even if... you know, peace times and all that." He was nervously looking about the lot of them, probably hoping they don't think him weird.

 _Gods know I understand that,_ Ruby thought as she offered him a smile. "It's fine, it was barely noticeable." He visibly relaxed afterwards. "So, ready to go?"

"Oh, yeah, let's hop to it." He grinned as the group began their trek.

For the first few minutes, they mainly focused on getting to know him better; favorite musical genres, favorite kinds of books, favorite movies, all that basic stuff. Music was a general blanket statement: he loved all music, except something he called "death metal"—something he mentioned was a local type of music that was "if hard rock was cranked to 11 on the volume level and made manic-depressive in every sense of the word"—and dubstep, something Ruby admitted she hated as well. Books? Horror and adventure. That seemed to grab Blake's attention, as was evident by her increased intrigue in the conversation. Their conversation kept going for a while, though anytime there was mention of family Jacob seemed to veer off into another subject.

There was something he wasn't keen on telling them; she could feel it.

 _...Whatever it is, he'll tell us whenever he wants to._

They finally arrived at the amphitheater just as the sun was coming down in the east; the room was bathed in a warm red glow, vaguely resembling the colors of autumn. Perfect light for helping someone discover what weapon was theirs.

"Alright, let's get the stage set up!" Yang cheered, making a beeline for the control panels. An audible hum of apprehension was heard from Jacob.

"What's wrong, Jacob?" Ruby asked in concern.

"I, uh, I'm just not certain about what I might be best suited for, y'know? I mean, what weapon really is gonna suit _me?"_

"Well, that's what we're here to find out! C'mon, I'm sure you'll find something that fits to your style!"

* * *

 _Damnit, damnit, damnit, DAMNIT!_

 _Left Swing!_

 _Missed._

 _Uppercut!_

 _Fuck, missed again._

 _Overhead!_

 _Oh for fuck's sake!_

"Aargh! This! Is! Really! Aggravating!"

Jacob was swinging wildly in an attempt to hit his opponent, but she was—for lack of a better phrase—too small for him to accurately hit.

"Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me~," his 5'2" opponent said as she bounced around his attacks. In his slightly-embarrassed fury, he didn't even see her lining up a swing with Magnhild until it was too late.

"Oh, man."

Nora Valkyrie sent Muller flying into the wall opposite of her with the force of a speeding truck. As he tumbled through the air like a tossed football, he had the exasperated urge to quote _Hot Shots_ on the flight over.

 _Wendy, I can fly!_

He hit the wall protecting the viewing area with a massive and audible **THUD** _,_ loud enough to probably wake the dead. Granted, he was too busy being in amazing levels of pain that would make Slaanesh squirm in ecstasy to really notice the sound he made when he went splat against the wall. Hitting the ground hard, he cried out as he found the hard floor no less painful for him to encounter.

"Nora, I think that was a little too much!" the voice of Lie Ren called out from the stands.

"Aw, he can't be a Huntsman if he can't take a few hits!" She replied back.

Muller rolled over slowly as his body processed this newfound pain; on the one hand, had he not been gifted with an awakened Aura earlier that day by Pyrrha, he would have been splattered across the amphitheater like a gory Jackson Pollock painting. On the other hand, considering how much pain he was feeling, that may have been the lesser of two evils.

Getting up on his feet, he angrily tossed the weapon in his hand—a battleaxe nearly his own size and yet surprisingly lightweight—to the ground among the pile of other spare weapons that the ragtag group had gathered; Apparently Beacon had spare weapons floating about that students wishing to be proficient in more weapons than one could use in practice. Unfortunately for him, he had yet to find one thus far that really felt... _right_ in his hands. Sure, it took training to get good with a weapon...

But all things considered, Jacob didn't have time to play the slow game of practice.

He tried a mace, his swings were too wild and uncoordinated.

He tried nunchaku and ended up smacking himself both in the face and then in the family jewels as was to be expected; That one had gotten a giggle out of Yang and Blake.

He tried a baseball bat and felt too much like a thug when swinging it.

Axes, sickles, hammers, glaives, gauntlets, clubs, chains, even Ruby let him have a shot at swinging Crescent Rose—something his inner fanboy was about to pass out from despite him being sucky with it—nothing was ringing with him.

Suffice it to say, it was more than a little infuriating.

"God Almighty, is it normal to feel this level of pain when you've got an Aura?"

It was Pyrrha who replied back, "Your Aura has not had proper time to get used to combat; it will take some time and exposure, but eventually even large hits will hardly feel like anything."

Jacob hung his head in exasperation before turning his gaze to the clock on the wall. 9:21 in the evening; he had been at this for closing in on 4 hours and was still no closer to his answer. "Grah, this is hopeless!" he shouted as he threw his hands up in frustration. He flopped down onto the side of the elevated ring, feet dangling off the side a foot from the ground below.

"Hey, come on, you still have a few options," Yang said as she came up to him, taking a seat to his left. "You haven't even touched swords yet, and you _were_ pretty good back there with those brass knuckles," she offered with a joking slap on the shoulder.

"...Honestly, I've never seen myself for swords; hero archetype and whatnot. 'Sides," he looked up and gestured around the group, "There's, what, 3, 4 people who already have a sword here. It'd probably just look unoriginal as hell."

Ruby came up to his right and sat down cross-legged, her feet tucked in like a small child would do; it ceased to amaze him how adorable this little savior of the world could be at times.

"Well, maybe you need to put your own spin on it; Jaune's got a broadsword, Weiss' is a rapier-revolver, Pyrrha has Miló, but there's a boatload of swords out there!"

Jacob thought long and hard about Ruby's choice of words. On the one hand, she was right; there were as many forms of sword in existence as there were civilizations on the Earth. No doubt there was one suited for him. On the other hand, almost any type of sword was traditionally given to heroes, an ingrained stereotype of weapons.

The idea of taking up a hero's weapon didn't sit well in Jacob's stomach. After all, he was amongst those back on Earth that said there are no more heroes among men. Who was he to take up a weapon of that symbolic nature?

He glanced up at the teams. There was Weiss, as usual giving him a dirty look as though the very idea of someone so crude as he taking up the art of the sword. Blake was eyeing him, her feline-like glance and movements betraying her disguise to only the well-trained eye or those who would have already been familiar with it. Jaune was offering a smile of encouragement. Ren looked deep in thought, as if weighing the options alongside Jacob.

Muller's eyes traced a line to Yang, who was flashing her own smile of encouragement, coupled with a wink. That got a smile out of him.

About that time his mind flashed the image of a very hollow girl, down an arm and abandoned by those who she needed most.

It soured his stomach, especially now to see her in the flesh; he had to admit she was a strikingly beautiful girl... massive tracts of land notwithstanding to that opinion. To see her—vibrant, lively, joyful—brought low like that... it stirred an anger within him, one he had never encountered prior.

And then he turned his vision to Ruby.

Sweet, innocent, Ruby Rose.

She was to endure so much pain so soon... lives lost that were precious to her.

Just like when her mother Summer died all those years ago.

The slow boil in his veins demanded he take action. Taking a deep breath to ease the boil, he made his decision.

"Sure. Let's give it a try."

Jacob and the two half-sisters got up and began to look at the weapons in the borrowed arsenal. Zweihanders, broadswords, fencing swords, claymores—his Highland ancestors weeped when he passed the blade over, he was sure of it—all kinds of swords were available.

Then his eye caught sight of a blade that caught his fancy.

"Well, what have we here?"

It was a hanger sword, the blade about 2 feet long give or take with around 6 inches of handle to grasp and was about 4 inches wide from edge to edge. It had barely any curvature to the blade at all, only tapering into the strong edge—the unsharpened side of the blade— at the last 8th or so of the blade. The handguard on it was a simple one, far from ornate and hardly covering much more than the lower half of his fingers. It reminded him of the Imperial Guard's _Munitorum-_ pattern power swords, or better yet the classic British M1859 cutlass.

About that time it really hit him how much of a weapons buff he was back home.

Ruby walked up to his side, studying the blade closely. "A cutlass? Didn't picture you for the swashbuckler type." In the background they heard Nora give out a resounding "arr" to accentuate Ruby's point.

"Well, associations with pirates aside, I always did like the design of a cutlass. something about the blade itself, I guess, and the fighting style it conveys." He swung it a few times, testing the balance and the weight. It was surprisingly comfortable in his hand, and the weight was incredibly light; he could actually control this blade with resounding finesse—well, what finesse he could muster.

"Judging by you control of that blade, I'd say you've finally found a match, Mr. Muller."

Everyone jumped in surprise as a third party's voice rung out.

The overhead lights turned on to reveal Professor Ozpin standing in the central doorway, obviously having observed them for some time given the nature of his comment.

"God Almighty, Professor, you about gave half of us a friggin' heart attack!" Jacob shouted across the way. Ozpin payed his comment no heed.

"A cutlass... most people associate that kind of blade with vagabonds and pirates, though I myself am always reminded of generals in battle," he said, the exasperation in his voice giving away that he was probably thinking of Winter, Weiss' older sister. Actually, now that Jacob thought of it, he was wondering if Winter was in on the Maiden Conspiracy as well, but that was a thought for another time.

"Now, I believe it would a good idea for all of you to return to your dormitories. Even if is the weekend, it is never a good idea to go light on sleep when you're a Huntsman."

Jacob suppressed the urge to chuckle as RWBY and JNPR groaned in disappointment behind him, accented by the sound of Ruby yawning. Jacob worked the God-awful morning shift and he tended to be a night owl at the same time; Even if he was waking up at 5:30 in the morning to get to work, he was used to running on 6-7 hours of sleep for a whole day. _Thank God for caffeine._

"Mr. Muller, If you would stay for a minute, I would like to talk with you for a minute in regards to your... situation here."

Both teams looked over at Muller, confusion or concern etched on their faces. He simply sent them a wave, saying, "It's alright guys, I'm sure it's nothing too serious. I'll see you all tomorrow, right?"

Ruby flashed him a thumbs up to reaffirm it. "Yep! Night!"

The teams left post-haste, obviously concerned that Glynda may catch them out and about. Muller and Ozpin stood there in silence for around a minute or so before Jacob spoke up.

"Am I in trouble, Professor?"

"Please, Mr. Muller, just Ozpin when there are no students around. And no, you're fine," he assured as he leaned upon his cane.

"Then what's with the holding me here for a minute?" Jacob asked as he leaned with his arms behind him against the massive door frame, cocking an eyebrow.

"Mainly to address something with you: that weapon—as much as it is school property—is not technically yours. You will need a weapon of your own."

Muller shifted ever so slightly. "And there's a problem with that right off the bat; I have no clue on forging a weapon. I know the rudimentary basics, but even then what I could make with my bare hands would look and function as well as a kindergartener's scribbles."

"There's a weaponsmith in Vale who is a close friend of mine who would be happy to help you with creating your weapon."

"Oh, wow, I—uh, wait, how much will it cost me, 'cause I've got no Lien to my name any way, shape or how," He sheepishly replied. It was a partial truth; he did have some United States dollar bills in his wallet—mainly 1s, 5s and 10s, but it was as useful here on Remnant as a match is underwater.

"That won't be necessary," Ozpin said with a bemused grin, "He's an associate of our group; inform him that I sent you and that, 'The Maiden needs a soldier", and he should provide it for you."

 _Wow, how convenient,_ Jacob chuckled in his mind. "Well then, his store will be first priority on my list of to-dos tomorrow, among others; I'm still in these ragged war relics," he joked as he looked back down at the same clothes he came to Remnant in. He and Ozpin shared a chuckle as he was provided the route for the stores and shops he would need to head to.

Outside, the two of them shared a handshake and began to head off their separate ways. But before Jacob could go much farther, Ozpin called out to him.

"Mr. Muller, I would exercise caution in the sparring ring in the future; your Aura is in a weakened state at the moment, having only just been woken up. It would be unfortunate if you were not prepared for a fight."

"Don't worry about it too much, Ozpin. I plan to spend plenty of time training up if I'm gonna compete with the rest of the student body!"

He turned to continue walking away, darkly thinking ahead to the future.

The arrow pierced Pyrrha's heart in his mind's eye as he continued back to the dorms.

 _For once,_ he thought, I'm _not lying._

* * *

 **Oh my Christ that was legitimately difficult to decide which weapon path I wanted to take; I was waffling between Wolverine-like gauntlets (AKA Lightning Claws), axes, fists or something else entirely.**

 **Regardless, while it seems like my weapon won't transform, believe me when I tell you that the design I have in mind has 3 forms. What kind of weapon will it be? Stay tuned for more at 11.**

 **Critique, review, follow, favorite, all the good schtuff and as always I will see you... in the next Chapter. Buh-bye~!**


	9. The Badge, the Blade and the Burden

**Alright, final chapter before we properly begin on the warpath, as it were...**

 **Also, this episode does not occur during _The Badge of the Burden_ , I just liked the title and worked off of it for the sake of the plot.**

* * *

 **Chapter 9: The Badge, The Blade and The Burden**

 _Failing to plan is planning to fail. —Alan Lakein_

* * *

...

...

...

 _*click*_

 _...Listen to the wind blow, watch the sunrise~..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _...Runnin' in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies~..._

 _...Hope the kids don't mind my Saturday alarm clock._

Jacob found—much to his surprise—that for the first time in months he wasn't immediately springing out of bed. Whereas he'd be on his feet and starting his morning ritual within two minutes of waking up, now... not so much.

No early morning work.

No early morning classes.

He had the morning to himself.

 _Well, this is new._

He peeked open a groggy eye to look at the clock over his new dorm's desk.

7:35. He'd slept in a little over 2 hours; he hadn't slept in like that in months.

 _God, sleeping in... I forgot how good it felt._

Fleetwood Mac continued his serenade from atop the nightstand next to the bed.

 _And if you don't love me now, then you'll never love me again~_

 _I can still hear you saying you would never break the chain...~_

Jacob waffled over staying in bed for a few more minutes.

"...Nah, I got stuff to do; might as well get started."

He crawled out of the bed with a moan as the music continued. With a yawn and the audible popping of his back he was up on his feet within the minute. Sunlight was already peeking in from behind the blinds, just at an angle that avoided scalding his retinas but was enough to tell him it was time to roll out.

In the shower he ran over his mental checklist for the day: Get new wardrobe, get weapon, figure out how the flying fuck to save Penny and Pyrrha.

That last one was gonna need some mulling over; Fortunately, he had an entire weekend to do that.

 _I can do this... right?_

He stared at the ground as he muddled about his mind for an answer; Sure, it was possible to save her, but he had long been taught that possible means diddly-jack; Whether it was probable was the true question.

The short answer his mind gave him: _About as likely as a snowy day in August._

He ran over potential avenues of attack in his head with painful levels of scrutiny. Confronting Cinder directly would do him no good, she already had at least a portion of the Fall Maiden's powers even now; going up against her at the state he was in now was likely to succeed as a lone Guardsman against Abaddon in a melee scuffle. Suicide was not even enough of a word to cover how stupid that was.

If he let them know the truth of the plan _and_ they somehow believed him, Cinder would be forced to make another attack from another angle and potentially put the others in equal danger, not to mention that there was one other constant that he had to make certain occured:

Ruby's Silver Eyes had to awaken. It was—will be, in all reality—the only way to stop the massive Grimm dragon Cinder calls to action during _Heroes and Monsters_.

And they only awakened when she saw Pyrrha get struck down.

A sticky conundrum; if Pyrrha dies, the dragon gets dropped. If she doesn't die, other are in danger from the great beast.

Muller's head met the wall in exasperation. _Damnit all, there's gotta be a way around this..._

Quickly freshening up, Muller set about to his checklist. _Alright, step 1, new wardrobe._

He left the dorms with all the quiet he could muster, walking as softly as he could to avoid waking them up in the event they were still asleep. As he hit the stairwell he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Those kids need all the sleep they can get," Jacob muttered darkly to no one in particular.

Outside the dorms he looked about the courtyard; only a handful of other students were awake, and most were busy with breakfast.

 _Oh, right, breakfast._

He popped by the mess hall and grabbed a quick meal-on-the-go, a basic thing of a ham slice and a hash brown patty with his mug—amazingly bereft of damage from the fight in the Emerald Forest—loaded for bear with his morning brew. Eating on the move; not an ideal breakfast, but he had a busy day ahead of him. Fortunately for him, Beacon sat on the edge of Vale, within walking distance of most everything.

As he wandered about town, he found himself drinking in the sights as he went along throughout the Commercial District. The architecture—at least in the area he was at the time—was very reminiscent of the upper-class districts in cities along the West Coast, or at least in his opinion. It certainly wasn't like home; he was used to adobe walls, flat roofs, heavy residential areas and the like; Home was kind of the smallest big city in the world... or was it the biggest little town in the world? Granted, with having a populace around 500,000 people strong, Home wasn't precisely in either territory. The streets were fairly clear of foot traffic, though that was most likely due to being an early morning on the weekend.

"God, it's beautiful here," Jacob admonished as he walked down the road. Even for a basic metropolitan city, Vale was so vibrant compared to most cities back on Earth; for once, gray and/or black wasn't the predominant color of the skyline, however short the skyline was in comparison to, say, Los Angeles."...It's a shame what's to happen here," he muttered wistfully as he remembered the Battle again.

 _ **SLAP!** Get it together Muller! _ his inner-self admonished. _It's... however many months out, there's no need to get melancholy wishy-washy just yet, if at all._ All he could answer with was a sigh of begrudging acceptance.

 _Regardless, we still do need to have a plan of attack for when that Battle happens; We are working on being strong enough, fast enough, tough enough, but our greatest advantage is we have the knowledge of upcoming events. And knowledge is power._

In a sense, he realized, we was probably the most powerful person on the damned planet at the moment... besides perhaps Salem.

But that power needed a strong hand to wield it, and he was far from a strong individual, physically or mentally.

 _Speaking of Salem, what are we gonna do about her?_ That stopped him in his tracks.

Salem. The Lady of Grimm, or Queen of Grimm, or whatever the fuck she was. The show hadn't told anything about her outside she was voiced by Cortana's voice actor—oh the delicious Halo-based irony—and that left everyone at a disadvantage. Was she stronger than Cinder, or was she like Emperor Palpatine in that she was a master of the silver tongue? Was she a Maiden—She bore an uncanny resemblance to the first Winter Maiden—or was she something less than human?

Too many questions, not enough answers. Even with the knowledge he held at the moment, it was far from enough to make the best out of the whole situation.

But before he could let that thought bring about melancholiness again, he shook himself mentally as he realized he had no idea where to go.

And also he was using the Royal We again when he was having his conversation with himself. Bad habits die especially hard in comparison to old habits.

But in regards to the former, that was a tough question; He was used to the outlet stores and massive department stores at the local mall. Trying to find a clothing store would be a headache and a half.

"Hey, short-stuff!"

Jacob hit the brakes. That voice... he heard it before, but where...

Oh, wait a minute.

He spun on his heels, and sure enough, he was greeted with a sight he was not expecting this early into the timeline.

Walking up the path was a girl about 6 feet tall, give or take, fair skinned with short dark-brown hair nestled underneath a black beret. She wore a long, cocoa-colored shirt with a dark brown waist cincher, dark brown trousers with ribbons on the left side and a brown belt with bullets. He spotted a pair of dark brown, high-heeled leather boots with buckles, giving her some of those extra inches to match Pyrrha's height. Chocolate brown eyes hid beneath a pair of aviators while a lone wave of hair fell down from her brow, lightening into a caramel color. A black and gold-studded handbag hung by her side.

Coco Adel.

Jacob suppressed a grin of mild excitement to his best efforts, and for the most part it seemed to be working. He noticed that she was flanked by the rest of Team CFVY; Velvet Scarlatina hung close behind, almost like a little pup. She was wearing a nervous but happy smile that was downright the cutest thing Muller had seen since... well, ever really. On her left flank walked Fox, looking as cool as ever despite probably being blind, judging by his eyes. And towering above them all, closing in on Michael Jordan height, was Yatsuhashi, his massive hook-ended buster sword glinting in the morning light.

"So, you're the one Ozpin let in as a Lone Wolf? I'm not impressed," she said with a blasé attitude. Team CFVY stopped 4 feet in front of him, most of them checking him out as though they were sizing up the competition.

"Believe me, I've yet to impress myself," he replied back with a dry tone. "You must be Team CFVY. I've heard a lot of good things about you from the Professor." _Flattery, huh Jacob?_

The cocked eyebrow over Coco's aviators was joined by the ghost of a smile. "I'm sure you did."

 _Survey says: success?_

"So, what are you lot doing out and about?" he asked hesitantly.

"We were actually going to ask the same thing of you," Velvet replied with her hint of an Aussie accent.

Muller bristled a little. _Were they following me? What if it was under Ozpin's orders?_ "Mind if I ask why what I'm doing is important?"

Coco stepped forward, close enough that Jacob could smell her perfume fragrance; chocolate and coffee, no surprise there. "Ease up there, cowboy. We always go into town on weekend mornings; good way to get away from the new meat as it were... though I guess today that's not gonna be the case," she finished with a sigh on her voice.

Muller smiled sheepishly. "Eh-heh-heh, whoops," he muttered as an embarrassed blush was about to find a spot on his face to reveal itself. "Well, uhm, I wasn't expecting to meet Team CFVY on my errand-run today."

"Errands? Whatever for?" Velvet asked, joining her partner.

"Oh, uh, considering all that happened over the last few days, I kinda realized that I'm... well, kinda short on a lot of things; a decent weapon—" he showed them his pistol, still tucked into his belt in a loose pseudo-holster, "—some actual school supplies—God, I haven't had to say that in a few years—and some actual clothes." He gestured to his body, still equipped with the same bloodstained shirt—though flipped around so the bloodstains were hidden under his jacket—jeans, shoes and said jacket.

"Wait, wait, that's all you've got?" Yatsuhashi piped up.

"Yeah, Ozpin kinda recruited me on the spot while I was in the infirmary." _Coupled with the fact that everything else I own is back on Terra... and why the hell did I refer to it as Terra? It's Earth, knuckle-nuts._

The look on Coco Adel's face, while perhaps concealed beneath her aviators, spoke volumes of what was going through her mind.

"You need a new wardrobe, huh?"

"...for lack of better phrase, yeah."

She gave an amused chuckle as the rest of Team CFVY gave each other smug grins. Coco grabbed Jacob by the wrist, giving him the wave to follow her. "Follow me, freshman."

* * *

Two hours later Muller found himself in a high-priced clothing store, being guided around by Coco with all the enthusiasm of a geek at a comic convention. So, basically, he was looking at a female version of himself when he was at a comic convention.

The rest of CFVY was busy browsing at their own leisure, strolling through the store without a care in the world; something told Jacob that they were used to being here.

Coco, however, was checking him up and down, no doubt getting an idea for what would work for him—however garish or elsewise it could be.

"...and you're definitely pulling off the jeans look there, buddy."

"Uhm, yeah, jeans have always been kinda my thing. Blue's kinda been my color since Day 1, and it's durable stuff."

"Though that jacket, way too thick for this climate. You are definitely not a local if you were wearing this in the tail-end of March."

"Yeah, well I come from a more arid region of the world, and around there half the time I think Mother Nature can't decide whether she wants winter to be summer or summer to be winter." That got a chuckle out of Coco.

"Sounds like a wild place to live."

"You have no idea..."

"Regardless, what got Ozpin to let you in, might I ask?" she inquired as she browsed a selection of expensive-looking jackets, everything form of high-quality leather he could recognize. Even back home where his money and bank card had some worth to them his wallet would have retreated to the nearest bunker at the sight of the price tags attached.

Jacob hesitated on his answer, uncertain of how much he should divulge to them. It was doubtful Ozpin would let them in on such an important secret, meaning he was short a legitimate excuse. "I guess he was impressed by my performance in the Initiation despite, you know, not technically being allowed in. I mean, I actually have no clue how I even got there; last thing I remember was, I _think,_ heading to work that morning, but even then, it's a bit of a blur... But regardless, I guess how well I handled myself was worthy of his attention."

"Pfft, I'll say," Coco replied, "Professor Ozpin was saying some good stuff about you late yesterday evening; 4 Beowolves and a Deathstalker, that's not something to balk at, especially for a civie. Ooh, I think these shoes would work on you!" She pulled up a pair of black loafers, about his size.

"Oh please, no, these are some of my favorite hiking shoes; I wear them most of the time be it in urban sprawl of backwoods hiking country. Besides, I've got a stupidly-wide foot, I doubt they've got my size."

They continued back and forth, the conversation gradually getting more casual with the occasional peep out of the others from the Team. Muller found himself admiring the feistiness from the fashionista. She carried herself with a confidence he wished he had: the kind you need for leading a team.

Granted, he doubted he'd ever lead a team; he much preferred to remain in a second-in-command position.

"Well, looks like brown, blue, grey and... white are kinda your colors of choice with your outfit. Very masculine, very down-to-earth... Hmm..."

"I take it you're not used to those colors—" He bit down hard on his tongue as he realized who he was talking to. Brown was pretty much her primary color, every single shade of it included in that statement. Fortunately she wasn't paying attention at the moment.

"Here, give these a try," Coco ordered as she tossed him a set of khaki cargo pants and a navy blue jean jacket, not unlike the colors of his Aura as he recalled. They were soon joined by several other articles of clothing, the lot heaped up in his arms like a comical tower of clothes.

After a few minutes in the changing room, Jacob walked out in this new outfit, taking in his new look in the mirror; For the most part, the outfit was fairly similar to his regular back on Earth, consisting of a grey, tucked-in t-shirt and khaki pants instead of his usual denim jeans. Instead of his brown jacket he now bore the navy denim jacket, a surprisingly lightweight jacket if anything; perfect for avoiding the hassle of slow-broiling his torso. He maintained his rattlesnake-skin belt, a prized possession of his if anything, and he still wore his brown hiking shoes, since they were only a month or two old at the time. His wedged, long-tailed _cross_ _pattée_ —Or St. George's Cross to some—hung around his neck, the steel dinged by constant wearage; he proudly never took it off for anything, even though most of the time it was worn under his shirt.

"Looking good, newbie," Coco said smugly, obviously riding high on her inflated sense of accomplishment.

"I'll admit, I've always stuck to more neutral colors, but this is nice," Jacob said as he looked himself over in the mirror.

"Not gonna lie, I think I've outdone myself yet again. And I even nailed it on the first go again as well." She brushed her lone bang back off her forehead, the smug confidence practically radiating off her.

"Wow, so humble Ms. Adel." That got a chuckle out of the rest of team CFVY. "Now, in regards to paying off these, I'm, uh, kinda—"

Coco held up her hand in response, telling him to pump the brakes on that thought. "Please, you let me have a human mannequin for the last 2 hours, this round's on me... But _just_ this one."

"Wait, seriously? Come on, there's gotta be some way I can—"

"Don't worry, this is actually on the more inexpensive side of the stuff they've got here. Besides, I usually only browse around here anyhow. My wardrobe's practically perfect in every way already."

 _I'll take your word for it, Mary Poppins,_ he chuckled mentally.

After rounding up the rest of her team, Coco and Jacob left with his new wardrobe in hand, 5 copies of the basics with a few other shirt colors for some variation.

Jacob was the first to reply. "Alrighty then, if it's all the same to you guys, I should probably let you guys have the rest of your weekend to yourselves. Sorry for any inconvenience. You sure there's nothing I can do for you guys?"

Coco simply gave him the assured wave, saying, "It's nothing, newbie. Just don't get your clothes bloody on the sparring platform, or the price is coming out of your hide." Another collective laugh escaped into the open air of the Commercial District.

"Well, again, thank you very much, Ms. Adel for your generosity."

Coco only replied with a giggle with the slightest hint of fluster. Velvet seemed to take notice and seemed... upset? _No, dum-dum, jealous if anything._ _Like Coco's hers or somethi-_

 _...Oh..._

"Uh, well, anyway, we should probably get going," Velvet said as she took a light hold on Coco's arm.

"Yeah, same on my end. I still need to get my melee weapon made up here ASAP, otherwise I'm a dead man in the field. Ozpin said there's a weaponsmith in town I could talk with in regards to a weapon."

"Oh, you mean Forgemaster He'Stan?"

 _...Say again?_

"...Sorry, what was his name?" Jacob asked Velvet, his brain attempting to register what she had just said.

"Vulkan He'Stan, he's the local weaponsmith for Beacon Huntsmen. He's the best Forgemaster in the world in our book; Gods know how many times he's helped out Yatsu here with fine-tuning his sword."

"...Right, well, do you know where his place might be?"

Coco began to give him directions to the weaponsmith's place, but he was only half-listening. In the back of his mind, he was still processing this new information. Or, rather, trying to rationalize it.

 _...No, no, it's just a coincidence. I mean, this is RWBY, not... that Universe._

 _I mean, there's gotta be more than one person with the name Vulkan He'Stan in the cosmos... right?_

* * *

Twenty-two minutes later, Muller was about to find out.

He stood outside what most would say was an unusual sight in such a modern town; a stone and mortar shop in the heart of the Commercial District. It was fair-sized, no doubt to hide away the actual forgeworks in the back of the store. The roofing was reminiscent of those Jacob remembered seeing on Chinese pagodas, giving the store an overall fantasy-village type look; Not something he would expect in the middle of a city. The doorway was simple but ornate, carved from what he would guess was an elm tree with ornate decorations of fire and steel encircling the center symbol, a roaring dragon's head.

Above the entryway, the sign read in distinct letters, "Firedrake Forgeworks".

 _"_ I have a _very_ bad feeling about this."

The moment he stepped into the building, he was greeted with a blast of warm air, increasing the sweat his body was currently letting loose. It was like stepping into an indoor desert; there was very little moisture in the air to be felt.

Despite the appearance from the outside, however, the interior was more surprising that Muller would have expected. The store's lobby was brightly lit and homely, despite being adorned with an assortment of shields, weapons, armor and trophy mounts—both of Grimm and real animals. There was a couch and table off to the side, the jungle green cushions adding to the vividness of the room. It was like stepping into the home of an accomplished hunter.

"I'll be with you in just a minute!" rang out a heavily-accented voice from behind the massive steel doors near the back of the room.

That didn't necessarily sit well with Jacob.

Instead, to cool his nerves, he focused on the armor and weapons around him, and Lord Alive there was a ton of them. Every one of them was beautifully crafted, as if a thousand hours were taken for each to make certain every aesthetic detail worked in tandem with the practical mechanics. Weapons of all kinds were on display, each one a marvel of craftsmanship. The same could be said of the armor as well, each designed with different styles and patterns; no two armor sets looked alike.

"Wow..." was all Jacob could let loose from his mouth. About that time, the massive doors creaked as someone passed through them.

"Heh heh heh, I get that a lot from new customers."

Muller turned around to meet the proprietor of the store, part of his mind already expecting the most terrifying conclusion. Surprisingly, he was only a little bit right.

The first thing Jacob noticed was how tall the man was; Thankfully, while not the 8-foot tall Space Marine the name betrayed him to be, he was still about 6'8" and was built like a linebacker, hell, probably more like a tank than anything else. Comparatively, Muller sat at 5'5", and while also being built heavily in the shoulders was far from as muscular as this man. He was clad in a green long-sleeved shirt and black canvas pants, with a leather apron protecting his torso, though it appeared to have seen better days as evidenced by the scorch marks across the treated hide. Muller also noticed he was a darker-complected individual, though he was not a comically-ashen dark like the sons of the 18th Legion, but more along the lines of Kenyan or Ethiopian tones. His eyes were also spared the 18th's nearly-demonic-looking, magma-red eyes, instead simply bearing dark red irises not unlike Emerald Sustrai.

But regardless of that, his facial features otherwise were a dead-ringer for Lord Vulkan, the Primarch of the Salamanders... at least in comparison to his Forge World model.

Muller's stomach decided then and there to do a couple of backflips to see how limber it was while still in his torso.

"Welcome to my shop," Mr. He'Stan delightedly announced, "Where only the best armor and weapons are found! Tell me, son, how can I help you today?"

"...I-uh-I'm actually h-here for... for..." Muller's old habits of speech-mazing were reawakening as he stood before the not-demigod, his mind desperately trying to make sense of it all. "*ahem*, sorry, I was actually here to look for a weapon, or to p-perhaps request one."

The Forgemaster's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Muller felt like shrinking back as he closed the distance to Jacob, his height and build inciting a desire to "meep" in terror. "Wonderful! I take it you are a Huntsman-in-training? Good man, there's never enough heroes in the world!" The slap on his shoulder felt like like getting smacked by a rhinoceros, painful and strong enough to nearly knock Jacob over.

"Well, uhm, Mr... He'Stan, right?"

"Hahah, yes, though if you asked around you'd find that my family's of the Hedgestan Clan, I just shortened it so it's roll off the tongue better. Please, please, just call me Vulkan."

"Right, well... Vulkan," Muller struggled as he came to grips with the concept he was essentially having a conversation with the closest thing to a Primarch imaginable. "I'm actually here with another message... 'The Maiden needs a soldier,' I think it was."

Vulkan recoiled in surprise; for a second Muller feared that Ozpin had led him into a trap that would claim his life prematurely.

"Ohh, I see now," the giant said in thoughtful contemplation, "You are one of Ozpin's newest protegees, am I to presume correct?"

"...Yes, sir," Jacob squeaked out in fear.

A a few seconds, a few minutes, perhaps even an eternity passed.

A boisterous and amused roar escaped Vulkan's mouth. "Hahahah, I always told Oz we needed to start recruiting earlier, and I guess he finally listened for a change! Welcome to the Inner Circle, my boy!" Jacob's tiny hands were crushed beneath Vulkan's iron grip as they shared a handshake.

"Th-thank you, Mr. Vulkan."

"So, you're in need a weapon, I am to presume?"

"Uh, yeah, In particular I was trying to think of a weapon that fits... _me,_ you know. Something that says who I am as a fighter."

"Oh? and what kind of fighter are you?" Vulkan took a leaning pose on the back of the couch, arms crossed with his eyebrow arched in a bemused smirk.

"Well... I... I guess I've always been one for pistols and blades. I mean, last night I tested out a cutlass and it felt right in my hand, to be sure, but I know most Huntsmen weapons have multiple forms, usually one being some form of ranged weapon. And that's where I'm waffling."

Vulkan chuckled in response. "A cutlass, hmm? A weapon of daring adventurers and bold heroes. Quite the weapon for a man such as yourself."

Muller stifled his indignation. "Oh? and I suppose you have some insight?"

"A man's weapon—nay, a Huntsman's weapon—says a lot about them as a person. The same can be said in reverse; a personality and temperament can say a lot about what kind of weapon best suits you."

"And... what do you see in me?"

Vulkan stared at him long and intently, the crimson eyes in his skull boring in him to an uncomfortable degree. The warm air of the building compounded with Muller's nervous contemplation, making him feel as though he was becoming a human sauna. The two sat there for around five minutes; but while Muller couldn't tell what was going on in that steel trap of a mind, Muller's mind was zooming by at breakneck speeds. If _Vulkan He'Stan_ —or at least a lookalike—was here, who else was here? Were there individuals of cosmic inspiration taken from other stories beyond the fairy tales of old? Was there some grizzled old Huntsman hiding out on a rocky island awaiting a brunette girl with his family's sword to teach her The Aura? Was there a man with a ricocheting shield that defended the innocent while dressed in red, white and blue? Was there a Guilliman? an Abaddon, either Chaos-based or Biblical-based? How far did this rabbit-hole go, how far did the cosmos take its inspiration, how maddening was this world of bloody evolu—

"Ferocity."

Muller was taken aback by the sudden word. "...Come again?"

"Ferocity. And cunning. And a desire to protect. A mind that is sharp as a blade to detail but blunt as a hammer to the truth. Precision is something you value, but you are not afraid to get messy. And there's an edge of determination to you; You start out slow, but you keep to it no matter what. You take big bites out of life even when you realize that a dozen steps can be more effective than a single leap, and that personal impatience angers you. You don't look for gimmicks unless it is to play your opponent's mind against them." He shifted ever so, leaning more on his left arm. "You've seen what loss can do, You have felt loss too, and you don't want to see others suffer the same way. You would fight with a zealotry found only in fanatics were you less composed, but you do not know how to wield your inner fire, though you do bear a sense of... patriotism, interestingly enough. I take it that is for your home, correct?"

Jacob sat there, staring at him, drinking in what he said... and how much he got right.

 _No, no, that's not all true; Me, ferocious? I mean, maybe if someone talks shit about a friend or my family, but ferocious? I doubt it..._

 _But the rest... how the hell..._

"How the hell did you do that?"

Vulkan grinned. "When you've spent your life amongst Huntsmen and soldiers, you pick up on the slightest queues in their actions, their posture, their movements; By the by, do you know you have a slight lumber to your gait?"

"I'm not surprised, I used to be fifty pounds heavier," Jacob said, being the one to grin this time. "I only just got into my optimum weight, and even then most of it's still fat."

"What fortunate timing then to join our cause!"

The two shared a hearty laugh, the ice having been well and truly broken between them. Just then, Vulkan rose from his reclined position and beckoned Jacob to follow him. "Come with me, I think I have just the weapon for you."

The two passed through the doors of the forge, and the image behind them would have made Ruby Rose do very unladylike things for being in polite company.

A massive, ornate forge held the immediate draw of attention; the blazing embers cast great golden shadows across the concrete floor and bathed the room in a warm glow. The mouth of the forge was that of a great drake, belching its flaming breath from behind iron teeth. Despite the menacing firedrake's maw, Muller found the flames entrancing, as if they were possessed of some arcane force. But even then, that wouldn't have stopped him from admonishing the plethora of weapons adorning the walls; everything from axes to mailed gauntlets to staffs to swords to spears to pretty much any kind of weapon you could think of, all neatly organized and mounted on the walls.

"Give me one second," He'Stan said with a hint of amusement in his voice, "If I recall it's here on the north wall..."

"Take all the time you need, Vulkan," was all Jacob could muster as he stared in awe of the assortment of armaments. It was practically majestic how many there were, astounding in how detailed each weapon was.

But his gaze stopped on the one full set of armor in the room.

A set that, again, had his stomach doing flips.

While it was also not an exact replica—instead being an appropriate size for a man of his stature, for starters—was design-wise a dead-ringer for the Marine Cataphractii Terminator Armor used in the Horus Heresy game. It was green and black with golden epaulettes and trims across the armor, and while it did not have the servos, motors and pipes found on actual Imperium Cataphractii Armor, it still bore the massive square pauldrons, enclosed facemask and torso, massive structure and hunched back of the Great Crusade-era war machines. Emblazoned on the torso was a golden icon bearing a more stylized version of the Salamanders chapter badge, though Muller was quick to put two and two together and realize that this was his particular insignia.

"On a side note," Vulkan mentioned from his ladder, "I noticed you don't have an emblem like most Huntsmen do; most have it on a piece of clothing of some form, though I myself have done brooches, belt buckles and a few other types. Perhaps I could whip up a quick one for you?"

Muller sat there for a second; he remembered that each member of the Academy beared an emblem of some kind to mark who they were in particular. Muller pulled out his phone, remembering that he had a particular design that he was proud of, and he thought would serve well for his badge of honour, as it were.

"Actually Vulkan," he began as he scrolled to it, "I kinda had a design in mind." Just then, Vulkan returned with a black box in hand, dusting it off with his hand. Muller showed him the image, though fortuitously Vulkan did not pay attention to the fact his phone was a far cry from a proper Scroll. Vulkan took one look at it and shared a satisfied smile with Muller.

"Now that is what I would call an emblem. But first, allow me to introduce you to something you might like."

He pulled back the cover atop the box, and Muller's eyes lit up like the night on the Fourth of July.

"By the Lord... it's beautiful."

"And I'd say it's a perfect fit for you. Careful with the edges, I sharpened them to a very fine point, though they are strong enough that they won't wear out for several years."

"Does it transform? Y' know, like other Huntsmen weapons?"

"Three forms, including a pistol form where the blade becomes a sort of bayonet."

"Wow. I... I don't know what to say, Mr. Vulkan."

"You're part of the team now, Mr. Muller. And we stick out our necks for one another." Vulkan placed a firm hand on Muller's shoulder to emphasize his point.

"...Part of the team."

"So, what are you gonna name it? After all, every good weapon needs a name."

"...You know what, I have just the name for her..."

* * *

RWBY and JNPR were currently in the process of wandering about the Academy grounds, simply taking the calm of a Saturday midday to relax and forget about the worries of the week, even for a few minutes. Though they found they were down one very odd man in their newly-forming posse.

Ruby herself had been hoping to join Jacob on his errand run; sadly, by the time she was awake, he had snuck past their dorms and was already in town.

 _Sneaky, sneaky one that Jacob,_ the little Rose thought to herself as she stuck close to her sister's side; as much as she was beginning to leave her comfort zone in regards to making friends here, she still felt safer around Yang.

"Wonder how long it'll take him," Yang said with a bored sigh.

"It'll take however long it takes him he's trying to get a weapon for himself," Weiss replied, more than a little miffed that they were talking about Jacob again. Ruby did, however, notice that there was less contempt in Weiss' voice in regards to Jacob than, say, yesterday.

Ruby looked up at the clocktower: 12:55. It was well past high noon, and half of the crew were antsy to see his new weapon.

"I'm hoping he reconsiders the hammer," Nora said as she skipped along, "then we can both be Hammer Buddies! Smack all the Grimm to death with a mighty swing of justice! Muahahahah!" She had struck a comically-villainous pose as to punctuate her escapade.

"Nora, he'll take whatever weapon he feels most comfortable with; Heck, I wouldn't blame him if he just stuck to fighting from range," Jaune responded to her comically-manic laugh.

"Oh, and who says I'm sticking to fighting at a coward's range?"

They all turned around to find Jacob standing about 15 feet behind them, proudly standing as if to say, "Hey there, you didn't notice me sneaking up on you" to the lot of them. ALongside some new threads he was also sporting some nice aviators to go along with them.

"Hey, there's the man of the hour! Nice new threads," Yang replied in earnest. "Who'd you kill to get them?"

"The only thing I think I killed was some of the money in Ms. Coco Adel's pocketbook; she offered me some new threads in exchange for letting me be her human mannequin for two whole hours."

"Nice tradeoff if you ask me."

Muller shrugged. "I'm known for some of my bartering skills. Besides that, I offered that if she ever needs anything to just give me a holler; a Muller does not leave a debt unpaid."

Weiss only huffed in response while the rest of the teams immediately were drawn to his new circular belt buckle. It was silver and a grey-blue, the metal purposefully dinged to remove any blinding levels of shine from appeared to have on it a heavily-stylized two-headed eagle, its silver wings spread proudly along a straight edge, though its tail was replaced with a lightning bolt instead. Behind it, a blue-grey five-pointed star outlined the buckle.

Yang let out a low, impressed whistle. "Nice buckle. Where'd you get it?"

"Same place as this bad mamma-jamma; Forgemaster He'Stan."

"Ooh, you met Vulkan!?" Ruby said with a sudden burst of excitement. "Uncle Qrow and I met him a few times before; he helped with teaching me how to actually make a weapon!"

"Uh, Ruby..." Jaune only had to say that much before their eyes were drawn to what else was on his hip.

A black-steel scabbard hung from the right side of his waist, simplistic in its design but their focus was more on what was inside. A leather grip peeked out from behind Jacob's hand, hinting at the weapon beneath. Ruby was practically begging to see the weapon now.

"Well, you all might want to take a few steps back..."

Jacob assumed a posture not unlike the start of an _iaijutsu_ practitioner, his right hand holding the scabbard while his left hand held the grip of the blade. Strangely, Blake seemed to stiffen up the moment he assumed this position.

"So, this beastie comes in 3 forms; first is the cutlass mode," He said as he drew the blade out into the sun in a wobbly left swing; it was a very wide-profiled hanger sword, the strong edge straight as an arrow, meeting the tapering sharpened edge without so much as ever bending to meet it. The handguard was blocky but strong-looking, not intending to impede his dexterity The grip was small enough for Muller's hand to hold it, and he held it as though it weighed nothing in his hand; a good sign if ever there was one.

"Second," he continued, "is the pistol mode." His thumb pressed one of two vertically-aligned buttons on the handguard; soon the pieces were shifting, though nowhere near as intricately as Crescent Rose. Soon, he was holding a skinny-barreled pistol, the end of the cutlass form creating a close-held bayonet on the underbarrel of the gun. He struck a pose with it, like a desperado in those old Vacuan westerns Taiyang watched on occasion. He spun it casually in his hand, careful as to avoid shooting himself in the face, even though Ruby could tell it was unloaded.

"But the third form," he said with a cheeky grin, "is gonna be the most fun one to use."

He transformed it back into the cutlass before putting it back into the scabbard. Just then, he pressed the second button on the handguard. RWBY and JNPR suddenly heard the sound of what sounded like... blades popping out.

All but Weiss were working on some form of smile; Jaune's was nervous, Yang and Nora's were grins like madmen—or rather mad _women_ —Ren, Pyrrha and Blake's were bemused and calm. Ruby herself could feel some kind of cool reveal coming up, and with it the anticipating smile crawling onto her face.

Muller smiled from behind his aviators. Muller began to pull out the blade, but they immediately noticed he was pulling with a lot more force than before, as if he was anticipating something had snagged.

That's when Ruby saw that the grip wasn't all leather—there was a large trigger that his primary fingers were sitting on.

And then she saw a metal tooth where the blade had been smooth mere moments earlier.

 _...Oh gods..._

Her grin couldn't have been bigger.

Muller yanked hard as he gunned the trigger.

The sound of a roaring engine, a lion in the middle of the campus.

A small flurry of dramatic sparks.

And where a cutlass had been, now a chainsaw-sword—a chainsword—was sitting in Jacob's hand.

He swung with it, thrusting it high above him as if a challenge to the gods themselves. The engine's roar mellowed out as he eased on the trigger.

"A motherfucking chainsword. _"_

Jacob let the sentence hang in the air for a few seconds before returning it to its cutlass form and resheathing it. RWBY sans Weiss and JNPR sans Jaune were immediately on him, asking him all kinds of questions about it.

"That is awesome!" Yang cheered.

"Sooo much better than a simple pistol!" Nora joined in.

"A bit... dramatic for my taste, but I can appreciate the craftsmanship," Pyrrha replied, giggling with merriment. "I wouldn't expect any less from Mr. He'Stan, or you, Mr. Muller."

Ruby suddenly noticed that Jaune was hanging back, looking forlornly at Crocea Mors, while Weiss was looking at Jacob with a hint of disgust.

"How barbaric," Ruby heard her partner mutter to herself. Ruby's heart sank a little bit.

"So, what are you gonna name your cool new chainsaw-sword?" Nora asked with baited breath.

Muller paused for a few seconds before a genuine smile enveloped his face. Ruby could feel it was a good name, whatever it was.

"...I think I'll call her... Cadia."

* * *

 **AAARGH, this chapter was a BITCH TO WRITE, I swear I'm only getting longer with each chapter! (7600 WORDS, HELP ME GOD ALMIGHTY.)**

 **Okay, so let's get some things out of the way:**

 **2\. Yes, I did a chainsword named Cadia. It's ultimate fate maybe a bit telegraphed for those of you who've read the more recent 40K literature.**

 **3\. Cadia's pistol form is supposed to resemble a Tempestus Scion Hellpistol when it is one of the ones with a chainsword bayonet. The cutlass form is supposed to resemble a _Munitorum_ -Pattern Power Sword (Commissar's sword), and the chainsword form is a basic _Munitorum-_ pattern Guardsman chainsword (also the chainsword teeth are supposed to be hidden beneath the cutlass blade in the blueprints in my mind's eye; the blade opens up and out pop the teeth.)**

 **Review, fav, follow, all that good stuff, and I will see you all, in the next chapter... buh-bye~!**


	10. Jaunedice and Homesickness

**Well, my weapon is sharp, my clothes are spiffy, Fanfic!Me has 6 months to train up and be able to tangle with Cinder... what could possibly go wrong?**

 **Oh, and something I've been forgetting to mention, RWBY is a trademark of Rooster Teeth and Monty Oum.**

 **Oh, right, and all assorted references are a trademark of their parent companies/creators.**

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Jaunedice and Homesickness**

 _"One's dignity may be assaulted, vandalized and cruelly mocked, but it can never be taken away unless it is surrendered."_ ― _Michael J. Fox_

* * *

Swing high. Miss.

Duck!

Back off, back off!

Jaune Arc was in a helluva bind. Panting with exhaustion, he stabbed his sword into the ground to hold himself up. Every muscle in his body was aching from the fight, despite how short it had been.

 _It's been, what four minutes? Geez, it can't just be four minutes! It's felt more like ten or so!_

Across the sparring ring, his opponent stood defiantly cocky, his massive mace hefted up on his shoulder. Cardin Winchester chuckled darkly. Jaune knew that while he was already winded, Cardin had yet to break a sweat. _Guy must be made or rock or somethin', no way he could not have broken a sweat if he was normal._

Of course, Jaune had processed the idea that perhaps it was simply that Cardin's Aura had been trained and was probably being used to mitigate his physical strain.

Jaune felt a hint of annoyance at the massive brute. Setting loose a triumphant yell, he lunged at Cardin, hoping to get an overhead swing in on the massive mace-wielder.

With unprecedented agility, Cardin ducked under the attack, swinging around Jaune's right and bringing his mace up for a counterattack. Before Jaune could fully register the sudden turn, a cross-swing from Cardin sent Crocea Mor's shield flying out of Jaune's hand, as well as knocking Jaune off his feet.

The Arc boy, however, was not one to give up. In a solid second, he was on the attack again, brandishing the antiquated blade like a claymore, again attempting to attack from overhead. Cardin's mace met Crocea in a blade lock, the two Huntsmen-in-training vying for dominance over the other. Sadly, Jaune was not a musclebound jock like Cardin.

"This is the part where you lose," Cardin snidely commented as he began to overpower Jaune.

"Over my dead―!" Jaune never got to finish his sentence, as Cardin's armored kneecap made impact with Jaune's stomach. The shock and pain was enough to knock Jaune flat on his side, clutching his stomach in agony. Jaune was only able to look up as the form of Cardin towered over him, mace hanging over his head to deliver a killing blow.

 _ **BZZT!**_

The buzzer sounded off, and the overheads cut out. "Cardin, that's enough."

Cardin Winchester started and quickly relented in his attack. The telltale high-heeled footfalls of Glynda Goodwitch announced her return to the stage. Tapping her Scroll several times, the large overhead monitor soon displayed A pair of bars, each one below the school's pictures of Jaune and Cardin respectively. While Cardin's bar was colored green and was completely filled, Jaune's bar was flashing red and had dropped down to a tenth of the size.

"Students, as you can see, Mr. Arc's Aura has now dropped into the red. In a tournament-styled duel, this would indicate that Jaune is no longer fit for battle, and that the official may call the match."

 _In other words, I fail again._

He looked around at the assembled crowd. While Ruby, Yang and Weiss were there―They had not reacted much to his fight, especially his Snow Queen, Weiss―Pyrrha had also taken a seat near the front beside Ruby.

The disheartened face she made didn't exactly help his mood.

"Mr. Arc, it's been weeks now. Please try to refer to your Scroll during combat. Gauging your Aura will help you decide when it's appropriate to attack, or when it is better to move to a more... defensive strategy. We wouldn't want you to be gobbled up by a Beowolf, now, would we?"

Jaune could just make out Cardin muttering, "Speak for yourself," under his breath.

Glynda immediately turned her attention back to the rest of the class. "Remember, everyone, the Vytal Festival is only a few months away! It won't be long before students from the other kingdoms start arriving in Vale, so keep practicing! Those who choose to compete in the combat tournament will be representing all of Vale!"

Jaune spotted Team RWBY getting excited, pumping their fists and shaking in excitement, while Pyrrha simply sat there with only an echo of a smile for them, only for it to be suddenly replaced by a frown when her gaze fell on him. He could tell her frown was for him; if anything, it was a frown of pity.

Great, another person he's disappointed.

He hung his head in defeat as the bell for class to end rung loud and clear.

* * *

On the opposite side of the bleachers from Ruby, Yang, Weiss and Pyrrha, Jacob breathed a heavy sigh. Having taken a seat not far from the front, he was more than able to see how the fight between the two went down outside of the meagre snippet shown in _Jaunedice,_ and he had been certain to take mental notes of both's fighting styles.

Suffice it to say, the show itself did not leave out much.

The fight only lasted four or five minutes give or take, and for the most part, Jaune had played on the offensive far too much. Several times during the fight Cardin turned Jaune's own attack energy back at him in a strange blend of a more brutish Tai Chi with a mace instead of fists. The result was a brutish, heavy-hitting and patient fighting style.

Not unlike the style he had picked up with Cadia. Or at least attempted to pick up.

As the class dispersed, the rest of Team JNPR met up with their leader at the foot of the stage. Jacob was soon to join them, offering Jaune a handshake and a smile in the hopes it would at least be of some support. They shared a few words before the lot of them were on their way to the mess hall for lunch.

While JNPR began heading off in the direction, Jacob hung back a couple yards or so as he mulled over the last few weeks.

 _My my, how things have changed._

It had been 5 weeks since Jacob's escapade in the world of _RWBY_ had begun, and already he was beset with worrying thoughts and fears. In the first week of classes, he had been focused on getting back into the swing of being a full-time student, something he hadn't touched upon in around two years. Sure, most would say that's no time at all, but for Jacob that felt like ages ago. He had set to the academic portion of Beacon with no trouble, having been a 3.6 student in his high school years and even into his college years―his one failed semester at the local university notwithstanding. Admittedly, he had fallen into his old habits of keeping to himself, as in comparison to those first few days he was in less contact with his dormitory neighbors now. But then again, letting them see too much and know too much would no doubt compromise the mission.

 _Mission. Jesus Christ, listen to me, I sound like a fucking MI6 agent. 'Oh, Q, how goes the repairs to the hover-car? Oh, and when you see Agent Bond again, inform him that I have a new mission from M.'_

Bemused musings aside, Jacob had realized that he had stepped into a much bigger picture than he could have imagined back home; world-ending MacGuffins, superpowered heroes, ancient evils... Normal people should not be as accepting of the situation as he was.

Thankfully, he never really saw himself as all that normal; more or less on the crazier side of the razor blade that is sanity, if anything.

Even then, by the end of the first week, he was already finding himself homesick. He was never one to stay in an unfamiliar place for very long; When he first moved a few years prior, waking up in a place he was now supposed to call home that he was not at all familiar with had taken a lot out of his sense of security. Hell, the longest he'd ever been away from home was 2 weeks in Florida for his high school graduation, and even then he had started missing home.

It was even worse now that it occurred to his mind that he was, well, _on another planet_.

He couldn't talk to his old friends.

He couldn't talk to his coworkers.

He couldn't talk to his family.

He was on another planet, maybe another galaxy, possibly another Universe. A man without a planet.

He was pretty much the loneliest person on Remnant.

The first time he realized that was... not pleasant. In fact, it was hyperventilation-inducingly, chest-crushingly, stomach-upsettingly terrifying.

Jacob shook his head at the memories, the tightness in his chest reminding him to avoid having a panic attack while out in public. A few deep breaths set his mind at ease.

 _Don't focus on that, don't focus on that, that thought leads to fear, fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to_ _suffering_. "Thank you, Master Yoda."

He continued on, watching the young wards of this world's future continue to train and prepare for the dangerous task ahead of them. He saw plenty of faces that were recognizable, and plenty whom he was certain were naught but black silhouettes in the show. It was certainly... _something._

Regardless, Muller had to focus on the task ahead of him. Priority one: train like hell.

Not even considering figuring out a way to save Pyrrha from Cinder, he would still need to be able to go toe-to-toe with Grimm, and that meant hitting his peak physical prowess... or at least as close as he could.

Thus far, he had spent most of his time training solo, trying desperately to get the hang of his new blade. While the pistol form was comfortable and easy enough to use―and also delightfully bearing a resemblance to the "MEQ"-dropping, or "Marine Equivalent" for those uninitiated in 40K lingo, Hellpistols of Cadian Kasrkins―but the sword forms... well...

Okay, he sucked with them.

His swordplay was awful at best. He found his swings either too hesitant or too wild, never hitting a level on par with even Jaune. If the two of them went into the sparring ring at that every moment, Muller would really have no choice but to backpedal and hope to stay out of Jaune's reach.

And that was just considering the cutlass form; He found the chainsword form―similarly designed to the "Hell's Teeth" chainswords used by Space Marines―even more difficult to use. While the weapon was intimidating with its roaring engine and spinning, serrated teeth that were visually straight out of the mouth of a dinosaur, keeping control was actually really difficult; his practice kill of a basic Creep nearly turned dangerous when he found that he wasn't prepared for the kickback. After that, he mentally made it clear to only rely on swinging strikes while Cadia had her teeth out. Poking the enemy would have to be reserved to cutlass form.

A shame that for a world where Rule of Cool applied to most weapons, he remained bound to the laws of practicality... bearing in mind what his weapon even was.

Outside of his weapon, he himself was a far cry from most of these kids. He was built on endurance, not agility; He certainly was not doing flips and kicks with his weapons, and he wasn't exactly outrunning Nora on her morning jogs around the school. His strength? Ha, He could hardly bench more than 50 or 60 pounds on a good day before, though his time in the gym on-campus was already seeing him add an additional 10 or so pounds to that.

Strategically in combat, he was hardly anything compared to most of the rest of the student body. While he saw the likes of Pyrrha, Ruby, Weiss―even guys like Cardin and Ren―practically dancing with their combat styles, Jacob found his style to be basic and crude.

Granted, he was trying to train on his own, as he was what he found out was called a Lone Wolf, a rare title unofficially given to Academy students across Remnant who attend the Huntsman Academies without being assigned to a team.

On the one hand, he was exempt from official team-based events and assignments, giving him more time to train up.

On the other hand, he was trying to act solo against people who had teammates to back them up, and in Jaune's case train them.

Just like back home, he was kinda in short supply of friends.

"Well," he said to himself, "At least RWBY and JNPR don't mind me... mostly."

Muller picked up his pace to catch up with the two teams.

* * *

"...So, there we were, in the middle of the night..."

"It was day."

"We were surrounded by _Ursai..._ "

"They were Beowolves."

"DOZENS OF THEM!"

"Two of them."

Jacob let slip an amused chuckle. Even though he had heard it before through the show, it was a special kind of hilarious to hear it straight out of the character's mouth, _in person_ no less.

"But they were no match. And in the end Ren and I took them down and made a boatload of Lien selling Ursa-skin rugs!"

Ren let slip an exasperated sigh as he balanced his mug in the palm of his hand. "She's been having this dream for nearly a month now."

The two teams and their tagalong 9th wheel sat in the dead center of the cafeteria, most of them only armed with a lightweight lunch of some kind. While the kids had taken seats on the benches, Jacob had commandeered a fold-up chair from the back room to sit closer to the main body of the group, taking up an awkward point at the head of the table. Ruby had downed most of hers already, save for her cookie, Pyrrha and Yang had lightly dipped into some simple salads―contrary to Jacob's anticipation that Yang was a bit more of a carnivore―Jaune had gone for a basic plate of Beowolf-shaped chicken nuggets and a pile of mashed potatoes, and Weiss, Ren and Blake were pretty much done with the first filing her nails, the former finishing a cup of tea and the latter... reading as usual. Jacob's plate was half-consumed, having instead taken the Chef's salisbury steak with some mashed potatoes and green bean casserole as well, and was currently finishing up a biscuit he had managed to grab before anyone got their hands on it.

However, Jacob was a bit more preoccupied at that exact moment with Pyrrha and Ruby; the three of them stole worrying glances at one another and Jaune as well, who had touched very little of his plate. His fight with Cardin was still bothering him.

"Jaune, are you okay?"

Pyrrha's question took a few seconds before Jaune's mind properly registered it. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Why?"

Ruby piped up. "It's just that you seem a little... _not_ okay."

Jaune took a second to look around the table. Now, everyone sans Blake had their eyes trained on the poor boy. Jacob shot him an arched eyebrow.

"Guys, I'm fine, seriously. Look!" He flashed them a cheesy and unconvincing smile coupled with a weak chuckle.

 _Jesus, and I thought I had bully problems in middle school,_ Jacob lamented to himself. About that time, laughter chimed up farther down the cafeteria. Just as canonically happened, Cardin and the rest of Team CRDL were harassing Velvet...with no sign of Coco or the rest of Team CFVY, oddly enough. _Where the hell are those guys?_

"Jaune, Cardin's been picking on you since the first week of school!" Pyrrha exclaimed as Jaune looked off to the side.

"Who? Cardin Winchester? Nah... He just likes to mess around! You know, practical jokes!"

"He's a bully," Ruby replied, her brow scrunched up in a scowl.

"He's an asshole," Jacob chimed in, doing his best Marty McFly imitation.

The looks he received from around the table ranged from mild shock from Yang and Blake to peeved looks from Ren, Weiss and Pyrrha.

"Uh, sorry, adult language. But my point stands, Jaune."

"Oh, please! Name one time he's 'bullied' me."

In Muller's mind, he at least listed off the ones shown in the show, along with about another 9 or so times he had observed from the last two weeks alone. "Okay, how about the locker incident on the first week?"

The silence at the table was deafening.

"I didn't land that far from the school!" Jaune said, attempting to wave it off.

"Letting the bully get away with it only gives him the fuel to keep doing it," Jacob growled in exasperation.

"Jaune," Pyrrha continued, "you know if you ever need help, you can just ask."

"Oooh," Nora suddenly piped up, and Muller immediately knew what she was going to suggest: "We'll break his legs!"

A diabolical grin found its way to Jacob's mouth. "I can think of a lot worse things to break then his legs, but it would be rude to say them in polite company," he said rolling his eyes at Weiss. He found no response from her.

"Guys, really, it's fine! Besides, it's not like he's only a jerk to me; he's a jerk to everyone."

Jacob knew this was exactly as he said in the canon... but he could not abide by that logic.

The laughing continued from Cardin and his goons.

"Ow, that hurts!" cried Velvet.

 _Uh oh,_ the logical part of his mind noted.

He looked back at Team CRDL. Sure enough, the bastards were pulling Velvet's ears, forcing her to hunch over lest her ear be in more pain.

A slow boil was felt in Jacob's veins. Again, he began to wonder since when was he one for anger. In the past, anxiousness was a closer companion than anger ever was, even on days when his temper was short. He was starting to wonder if he was coming into the Muller Family Temper; only question was, would he have his mother's firecracker temper or his dad's volcanic temper.

"I told you they were real!" Cardin laughed.

"What a freak!" came the voice of one of his goons―Russel Thrush if he remembered right―the venom in his voice palpable from here.

Jacob's fist came down on the table. He began to rise out of his seat , his mouth opened wide to shout a solid string of curses at the fatherless fucks...

Only for the logical part of his mind to speak up.

 _You can't deviate too far from canon. Cardin will get his comeuppance, but not from you._

Fuck.

Muller sighed before returning to his seat. "Another day, another place, he'll get the asskicking he deserves... but not now. Not here," he said to no one in particular. He watched heartbroken as Velvet fled her tormentors, head down to avoid the looks of others.

Jacob's eye caught the slightest shimmer in her eyes.

A teardrop escaped her eyelids.

Muller felt like he was the one who tugged on her ears in the first place. He scooted his plate out of the way only to introduce his head to the table in exasperation.

"I'm a horrible person." He felt Ruby's tiny hand on his shoulder, patting him ever so slightly to reassure him.

"Atrocious," Pyrrha said, glaring at Cardin. "I can't stand people like him."

"He's not the only one," came the venomous verbal scowl of Blake.

 _You referring to the Schnees there Blake... or your boyfriend Adam?_

"It must be hard to be a Faunus," Yang sighed with her arm holding her head up.

Muller lifted his head, locking eyes with Blake, but she soon broke her gaze with him, the nervousness evident only to those who knew how to spot it. And fortunately, Jacob had trained himself long ago to spot the subtle differences in body language.

Already Jaune had left his seat and was heading out the front door, Cardin grinning ear-to-ear from his spot amongst the wooden tables.

Jacob felt a scowl cross his face, cursing Cardin mentally with every imaginable swear in the English language.

 _Even if I have to wait 'til after Cinder's dead, I'll be more than happy to beat his skull in one of these days..._

* * *

Two hours later, the majority of the first-year students were attempting to catch as much as they could of Professor Bartholomew Oobleck's History lecture for the day. Just as he remembered it was like in the show, Oobleck was more or less quite the messy professor; In a competition to see who had the messiest workspace, Muller's old desk at home couldn't even compete with the Professor, and that's saying something considering the paperwork on Jacob's desk reached a solid 6 inches high and covered most of the surface area. Oobleck himself was quite something: no amount of watching the show could prepare Jacob for the mental concept of a spazzy history teacher with the voice of _Red vs. Blue_ 's Caboose.

He looked around the assembled class, noticing most were either awake and on high alert―like Pyrrha and Blake―or were close to dozing off... like poor Jaune.

Muller took a spot near the corner of the class as he usually did, giving him a fairly decent view of the board, Oobleck and the class. Even then, it was an ungodly task trying to get all the notes from this guy. Granted, Muller on occasion would stay after class to make certain he got everything and to confirm with Oobleck; hell, he and Oobleck were starting to get along pretty well despite the two being on the polar opposite sides of the energy spectrum.

"Yes! Yes, prior to the Faunus Rights Revolution―more popularly known as the Faunus War―humankind was quite, quite adamant about centralizing Faunus population in Menagerie." Bartholomew zoomed about the room, pointing to the the southernmost continent on the map. "Now! While this must feel like ancient history to many of you, it is imperative to remember that these are relatively recent events! Why, the repercussions of the uprising can still be seen to this day!"

The White Fang was certainly the first thing to come to mind in Jacob's head.

"Now! Have any among you been subjugated or discriminated because of your Faunus heritage?"

Several hands near the back of the room slowly rose overhead. Jacob's eyes focused on Velvet as she hesitantly raised her hand. He could spot the tremble in her hand from a mile away, and he could swear he saw some redness in her eyes from crying.

He shot Cardin a murderous look. Cardin simply shot him a cocky smirk back and continued to lounge off.

"Dreadful, simply dreadful! Remember, students, it is precisely this kind of ignorance that breeds violence!" Muller and Oobleck in tandem took another sip from their respective mugs. "I mean, I mean, I mean just look at what happened to White Fang!"

Muller's eyes darted over to Blake. If she was feeling anything from having the White Fang mentioned in her presence, she was doing a bang-up job of concealing it.

"Now, which one of you young scholars can tell me what many theorize to be the turning point in the third year of the War?"

Weiss' hand shot up before Jacob even had the chance to register his question. "The Battle at Fort Castle."

Muller barely stifled a laugh at the name. _Fort Castle, how unoriginal can ya get!?_

"Precisely! And, who can tell me the advantage the Faunus had over General Lagune's forces?"

Unseen by the professor, Cardin flicked a paper football at Jaune's head, causing him to wake up. Jacob spotted it but was too late to do anything.

"Hey!" Jaune cried out, catching the Professor's attention. "Mr. Arc! Finally contributing to class! This is excellent! Excellent! What is the answer?"

"Uhhhh... The answer... The advantage... that the Faunus... had over that guy's stuff..." He looked to Pyrrha, as she desperately motioned the answer.

He never picked up on it.

"Uhh... Binoculars!"

The laughter that rang out from the class made Jacob cringe on Jaune's behalf, while both he and Pyrrha shared a facepalm. Over the laughter of the rest of the class Jacob easily made out the chortling of the Winchester boy.

"Very funny, Mr. Arc! Cardin! Perhaps you would care to share your thoughts on the subject!"

Muller shot Cardin a look again. _I swear Cardin, you say exactly what I think you'll say and I will beat the shit out of you, even if I have to fight_ ―

"Well, I know it's a lot easier to train an animal than a soldier."

Muller's grip shattered the wooden pencil he had been taking notes with.

― _AS DIRTY AS HELL IS FUCKING HOT AND HEAVEN IS FUCKING BRIGHT_ _,_ his thought finished with no regards for decency. He and Pyrrha shared a scowl before she decided to address the Goliath in the room.

"You're not the most open-minded of individuals, are you, Cardin?"

He shot her a nasty sneer. "What? You got a problem?"

"No, I have the answer! It's night vision. Many Faunus are known to have nearly-perfect sight in the dark."

At that point Blake chimed in. "General Lagune was inexperienced, and made the mistake of trying to ambush the Faunus in their sleep. His massive army was outmatched, and the general was captured."

Jacob also joined in on the conversation, unable to interject with some of his own experience in both strategy games and the 40k tabletop community. "If I may interject, Professor, it's the perfect example of brains versus brawn; Even if the larger army throws everything he's got at his foe, often times his foe knows just where to make his opponent crumble with a well-placed shot." Oobleck let slip a slight smile, content with Jacob's comment at least as far as Jacob was aware.

In the meantime, Blake turned to Cardin as well, joining in on the collective scowl being thrown his way. "Perhaps if he'd paid attention in class, he wouldn't have been remembered as such a failure."

Cardin began to get up, fists clenched and no doubt looking for a fight. Oobleck, however, was able to assume control of the situation. "Mr. Winchester! Please take your seat."

Jaune snickered at Cardin's embarrassment but was promptly quieted by Oobleck's sudden appearance in front of him. "You and Mr. Arc can both see me after class for additional readings."

The audible groan of disappointment from Jaune could be heard from across the room. Jacob could only sit and pity that Jaune was stuck after class with Cardin no less.

But then again, it was probably better for Cardin that Jacob wasn't staying with them.

"Now! Moving on!" And thus the class continued at Oobleck's breakneck pace.

* * *

Class ended with little to nothing to report afterwards, a basic homework assignment to take care of when he got back to his dorm, but otherwise not much else. While the members of Team RWBY in the class had already left for their dorm, Muller hung back with JNPR, opting to stay with Pyrrha in waiting for Jaune.

"You go on ahead, we'll wait for Jaune," Pyrrha ordered to Ren and Nora.

"Are you sure? I mean, Pyrrha I understand, but you Jacob?" Ren asked the man as Jacob took up a leaning position on the wall outside the class.

Jacob was loathe to say much, mainly due to him plotting how to get back at Cardin on behalf of both Velvet and Jaune alike. "Eh, I don't mind. 'Sides, I think Jaune needs some encouraging words, and I think I've got something in mind for him."

Ren was about to say something before Nora grabbed his shoulder and in turn grabbed his attention. The two shared a look before following Pyrrha's orders and heading back to the dorms.

 _Boop_ egged it's way into Jacob's mind; if there was one canonical couple that Jacob hoped now would survive the series, it was definitely Renora. Those two couldn't be described as anything else other than attached at the hip.

A mild pit formed in his gut at the prospect that Miles and Kerry would be so bold and foolish to dare hurt either of them from Season 5 onwards. The bastards were sadistic enough at times that it would be no surprise.

It was at this point that Muller realized he was alone with Pyrrha, waiting for Jaune.

Alone. With Pyrrha.

If sweat were bullets, Muller would be looking like an Ork Meganob's weapon cache.

The two sat in silence for a solid 3 minutes, the only sounds being the distant murmur of passing students and the sound of the air conditioning.

In his panic, he decided to plug in his earbuds to his phone and place them on random shuffle. As the tune of _Beer for My Horses_ by Toby Keith began to play, Pyrrha surprisingly payed him no heed at the time.

In the meantime, Jacob was furiously thinking about the upcoming future. The tournament in just over 5 months― _5 MONTHS,_ his mind screamed to itself, _to come up with a way to save her!_ ―not to mention all the other chaos that would be on its way.

He couldn't help but stare at her as he replayed _The End of the Beginning_ over and over in his head without relent or remorse to his consciousness. The arrow in her Achilles' tendon― _Brave, brave Achilles_ ―glowing like a hot ember, the gloating smile and speech from Cinder Fall, the arrow―

He couldn't finish the thought. It made him want to vomit, thinking about her final seconds in life.

 _No,_ he mused to himself, _you won't let that come to fruition._

"Hmm? Did you say something?" Pyrrha asked, cutting through the sound of country music.

Jacob quickly came to the realization he must have said his thoughts aloud. "Oh, it's nothing of importance," he quickly course-corrected. Silence consumed the hallway again as they awaited Jaune's leave from Oobleck's office.

"Jacob," Pyrrha began, "I... I actually have wanted to ask you something."

He felt his stomach flutter a bit. "Uhm, sure, sure, w-what's on your mind?" he asked as he stopped his music.

She walked around to the opposite wall from him, hands behind her back and looking at him with an inquisitive eye. For a brief few seconds Jacob was expecting her to ask about why Ozpin let him into the school when he was already the equivalent age of a class senior at Beacon and untrained as fuck, why he appeared in the Emerald Forest all those weeks ago out of sheer luck, so many potential questions bounced about his mind.

"You seem particularly enamored with our group, both JNPR and RWBY, and that had me thinking for a moment; surely you can't have left nothing behind back home, wherever home is. Doesn't your family know about this? Friends back home? You even mentioned you had co-workers, what about them?"

Jacob felt as though he was walking on eggshells. He couldn't tell her the whole truth, that every weekend morning more that he was here he desperately wanted to see his family again, see his old buddies and co-workers as well. He couldn't tell her the whole truth that he was from another world, probably another Universe entirely or something like that. He couldn't tell her that he had seen this world's future and how it would have come to be.

Another lie to add to the list. His mother would have blown his eardrums out lecturing him about lying again, but what choice did he have?

"I... I kinda... can't really contact most of them. Let's just say that, now that I remember things a little more... they're someplace too far for me to contact." He looked down at the ground, the loneliness threatening to consume him yet again.

And for once, it was legitimate loneliness; not that _faux_ -loneliness he encountered at university or the like.

He was alone.

He was well and truly flying solo.

"I'm... alone... as it were."

* * *

Pyrrha had some experience with loss in the past, mainly through those acquaintances she had back in Mistral. Lost pets, lost grandparents, heck one of her old classmates lost her mother in an automobile accident. Pyrrha herself had encountered loss when both her sets of grandparents passed in their respective times. Usually these were from old age or disease, save that one instance, but Death was a familiar face in her life. She even knew she would flirt with him upon taking up the mantle of Huntress, perhaps even meet him prematurely as was not uncommon for Huntsmen and Huntresses to do during their time in the field.

But what Jacob said...

It gave her a chill.

He was _alone?_

Pyrrha's logistical side began to assess the situation, putting together an explanation for his statement. Perhaps the village where he was from had some individuals that were still alive, some people that he could talk to, perhaps he had family that was still alive and surviving elsewhere.

Meanwhile the shock of the statement struck her heartstrings hard.

Muller had been accepted to the Academy on a whim, practically jumping into it as it were; perhaps he had suffered some retrograde amnesia and his subconscious had pushed him into the Huntsman life. His was a desperate gamble, a once-in-a-full-moon kind of scenario. But he had no team.

No teammates to be there for him.

He was a Lone Wolf.

 _Literally._

And to make matters worse, he was not a trained Huntsman-to-be. He was inexperienced with anything other than a sidearm, as she had seen when she followed him to the auditorium a week ago; she had noticed that he swung wildly, more like a feral animal than a graceful fighter with massive cleaving swings and brutish shoving strikes with his free hand... or at least that is what she figure he was attempting to try.

He was fighting an insanely uphill battle.

Just like her team leader...

"... I... I don't even know..." she couldn't even finish her sentence she was in such shock.

The young man continued to look down at the tile floor, no doubt the weight of reality feeling insane at this point.

"Do... do you know what happened?"

Jacob shifted uncomfortably. from his position against the pillar. She had dug too deep.

"I'm sorry Jacob, I-I didn't―"

He held up a hand to stop her. "It's alright, Pyrrha," he said with a waver in his voice as if he was holding back a sob, "I, uh, I'm sorry to say that I... I don't really want to talk about it. Maybe later, but..." She heard the waver in his voice. The very thought cut deep, whatever happened.

It was clear that Jacob didn't want to talk further about it. But it did give her what she thought was the answer to her question.

The two teams had shown him companionship and compassion almost instantly. Pyrrha and Jaune had saved him, he in turn saved Jaune. Pyrrha awakened his Aura, now he was offering to help her with other such things as the welfare of her own team's leader.

Even Pyrrha herself wasn't sure on why they were so welcoming of him _en totale,_ how they were so willing to throw him a lifeline with so little reason.

 _Curious..._

Before the two could continue though, Oobleck's office opened and out walked a sullen Jaune. _Oh dear, that's the look of an extra essay if I've ever seen one._ Oobleck himself came zooming by at speeds to rival Ruby's Semblance, making Pyrrha wonder just what did the Professor spike his drink with.

And last but certainly least came Cardin, lumbering along like an angry gorilla. It didn't even take a second before Cardin shoved Jaune to the ground and walked off, chortling with sadistic glee.

Jacob and her both moved to pick Jaune off the ground. "You know, I really _will_ break his legs," she assured to Jaune as she took a second to glare daggers at Winchester before he skulked off.

"Really, the legs? I'm thinking of breaking something _between_ his legs," Jacob said with a strange snarl-grin on his face. The two of them hoisted Jaune back on his feet in no time.

But Pyrrha was already thinking about other things. Namely finding a way to train her leader and their Lone Wolf compatriot.

But like a lightning bolt striking, she mentally found her solution in the blink of an eye.

"I have an idea, come with me!"

Without warning the two of them, she took off like a Nevermore out of hell, dragging the both of them along for the ride.

* * *

The unlikely trio soon found themselves on one of the rooftops of the dormitory, overlooking the main campus of Beacon with an amazing view of the Tower. It was high, about 5 stories up give or take, and much to her chagrin there were no guardrails to protect someone from falling over. A few basic pipes and such dotted the edge of the ground, but otherwise there was nothing else but stone tiles and grout.

Pyrrha looked up into the night sky; the sun had only gone down in the west a meagre 30 minutes or so prior, leaving some light to be seen obscuring the stars. She felt a hint of a smile cross her lips; She and her mother used to gaze up at the stars at night, naming constellations of their own.

Those memories... they felt like they were so very long ago... back before she began training, before the tournaments, before it she even wanted to be a Huntress...

"Pyrrha, I know I'm going through a hard time right now, but I'm not _that_ depressed. I could always be a farmer or... something."

Jaune's comment snapped her out of her nostalgic trance. _Huh?_

She looked down where he had looked down a second prior.

Over the side of the building, down to the concrete below.

Her stomach lurched ever so slightly before she pushed him back away from the edge. "N-no! That's not what I meant, and not why I brought you here!"

"Jeez Jaune," Jacob chimed in as he walked up to her side with crossed arms, "I don't think Pyrrha's the type for suggesting friggin' _suicide._ "

"Jaune," Pyrrha continued, "I know you're having a difficult time in class and that you're still not the strongest of fighters, and the same for Jacob, at least for the latter, so... I want to help you! Both of you!"

"Wh-what?"

"We can train up here after class where no one can bother us! All three of us!" The contemplative look on Jacob's face told her that he was already on board with the idea, though she could tell that he was still nervous about... something.

Maybe it was her?

"You think I need help?"

Again, Jaune caught her off guard with his question, as he at there, looking as though she had verbally berated him. "N-no! No, that's not what I meant."

"But you just said it."

"Jaune, everybody needs a little push from time to time. It doesn't make you any different from the rest of us. You made it to Beacon! That speaks volumes of what you're capable of!"

He turned away, looking out over the Academy grounds with a forlorn look in his eyes. "You're wrong, Pyrrha. I-I don't belong here."

For the second time in a day Pyrrha was shocked by the words coming out of someone's mouth. Didn't belong here? Of course he did, what kind of crazy talk was that? "That's a terrible thing to say, of course you do!"

Jaune Arc whipped back around, his brow arched downwards into an angry look.

"No I don't!"

Pyrrha couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her partner, her leader didn't think that he belonged in Beacon? What was going on in that head of his?

"...You didn't get into Beacon by... _conventional_ methods, did you Jaune?"

The Nikos girl whipped back around to look at Jacob. His eyebrow was arched upwards in an inquisitive look, as though he was questioning a suspect in a crime investigation.

"What do you mean?" She asked him.

"He means that I didn't earn my spot here," Jaune continued. "I didn't go to combat school, I didn't pass any tests. I didn't earn my spot at this Academy!" He looked back around at her, the signs of tears starting to show themselves in his eyes as his voice escalated in frustration. "I lied! I got my hands on some fake transcripts, and I lied!"

 _...Lied?_

Jaune turned to Jacob, his eyes scouring their older compatriot. "And you. You knew, even since The Emerald Forest, since Initiation. How?"

Look at Jacob, she could tell he was ating being put on the spot right then and there. Despite the nervousness, Jacob piped up, "I... I kinda got that vibe that you weren't... necessarily... _combat-savvy_ in comparison to the rest of our band of merry misfits. I figured it out pretty quickly, but I was concerned on your behalf and I didn't want you to freak out, so I kinda shut up on my end."

"...What? but... why?" She couldn't even process this new information properly. The rug had been thoroughly pulled out from underneath her as it were.

"'Cause this is always what I've wanted to be!" he shouted, turning around to face the campus. "My father, my grandfather, and his father before him were all warriors! They were all heroes! I wanted to be one, too. I was just never good enough."

Pyrrha could practically hear the anguish in his voice; a legacy of heroes? To have to live up to that and feel subpar... she couldn't just let her leader feel this way, even if she had never felt that way before. "Then let me help you! Let us help you!"

Jaune pulled away from her as she attempted to lay a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't want help! I don't want to be the damsel in distress! I want to be the hero!"

She felt like she had insulted him again. The heartbreak she was feeling was unnatural for her. "Jaune, I-"

"I'm tired of being the lovable idiot," he interrupted, "stuck in the tree while his friends fight for their lives! Don't you understand? If I can't do this on my own... then what good am I?"

Pyrrha attempted to reach out for his arm and console him even perhaps give him a hug, but he leaned back from her touch.

"Just... leave me alone. Okay?"

Jaune's words cut deep. He didn't want help. He didn't want anything else right now than to be alone. "If that's what you think is best..."

She began to leave only to turn around as her mind reminded her that she had forgotten their other compatriot. "The same offer goes out to you too, Jacob."

He stood there in silence, looking off into the night sky. The look on his face spoke volumes of what he was thinking; He wanted to, but... he was hesitant. Something in his mind was telling him to hold off or to wait and decide.

Finally, after about a minute, she had his answer.

"I probably shouldn't being a 'Lone Wolf' and all, but I would be remiss if I turned down an offer like that. Alright Pyrrha, you have yourself... at least one apprentice." He slammed his fist into his other hand's palm and bowed low in a salute, punctuating his point with an amused smile.

Even though the shocks of the last few hours had already drained much out of her, Pyrrha couldn't help but smile in reply before an amused giggle escaped her throat. "Apprentice? I suppose it is kind of like that."

But her thoughts still lingered on Jaune. She turned to look at him only to see that he simply sat there, staring off into the void of the night sky.

The brief levity of the situation suddenly died back down, leaving that echo of somberness. Both her and Jacob looked at him for a few seconds before Jacob spoke up.

"Well, whenever you're ready Jaune, her offer is still open. Come on, Pyrrha, he needs to be alone with his thoughts for a bit."

Pyrrha took one last look back at Jaune before the two headed back to their respective dorms.

After a few minutes of walking, they arrived out front of JNPR's dorm.

"Welp, here we are, Pyrrha. Hopefully Jaune will be along soon enough."

"Do you think he'll be alright, Jacob?" was the first thing to come out of her mouth. "I'm worried about letting him be alone up there."

Jacob suddenly had a look in his eye that spoke of experience with that thought... and part of her didn't want to know how familiar he was with it.

"He'll be fine, he just needs a few minutes to get himself together. Lord knows that I've encountered that thought pattern before, but he's not the type to go and fling himself off a ledge." He placed a hand on her shoulder, despite the fact that she stood 7 inches higher than him. "Trust me, this too shall pass," he said with a smile.

Even with his encouraging words though, Pyrrha was still worried. But rather than let it show, she buried it down deep. "You're right, he'll come around in due time."

With that, the two bid each other goodnight, before Jacob walked down to his dorm and entered without a second glance.

 _Certainly a motley bunch we are,_ Pyrrha thought to herself.

* * *

 _...7:00. I've got plenty of time._

Settling into his desk chair, Jacob began to set up his gear for his nightly ritual. Normally in the past he hadn't done anything like this; it took a lot of energy just to do one recording, so one every night was a fascinating challenge in and of itself.

Putting his phone atop the ledge of the wall, he rotated the recording to the inboard camera _a la_ a selfie.

"Showtime."

He pressed the Record button.

"Video Log Entry #35, Current date on Earth is... August 23rd, _Anno Domini_ or A.D. 2017 as per my watch. Current date on Remnant is April 17th, 80 A.G.W., or After Great War."

"Now... where do I begin with today..."

* * *

 **Well, that's a solid 8,000 words right there. At this rate my chapters are gonna start becoming books all their own size-wise.**

 **Sorry this is a bit later than usual, I actually went through several plans for the chapter, including me going after Velvet to calm her down. Mayhaps that shall be in the next chapter, mayhaps not.**

 **But I will say this; "I" won't be going with the rest of the team to Forever Fall Forest, and Ruby and I may have a bit of a heart-to-heart as well.**

 **Reviews are welcomed openly, favorite, follow, do whatever you please and I will see you all... in the next chapter. Buh-bye!~**


	11. Forever Fall

**I'm seeing red all over, I think I popped a blood vessel!**

 **Oh, wait, I'm in the Forever Fall Forest. *SLAP***

 **RWBY is a trademark of Rooster Teeth and the baby of Monty Oum.**

 **All other referenced media is a trademark of their representative companies/Creators.**

 **All I own is the laptop this is being written on.**

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Forever Fall**

 _To the living we owe respect, but to the dead we owe only the truth. ―Voltaire_

* * *

...

...

...

*Click*

The first thing Jacob's ears picked up was the sound of whistling. Very familiar whistling.

 _...Oh God, I turned my phone on to Sabaton for my alarm, didn't I?_

He was answered by the sound of power-metal guitar riffs.

 _Goddamnit._

He scrambled half-asleep to the nightstand, desperately reaching for his phone as it played the Swedish power band's ode to Audie Murphy.

 _A short man from Texas, a man of the wild,_

 _Thrown into combat where bodies lie piled_ ―

 **THWACK!**

Jacob's hand groggily smacked the snooze button before he could wake up his neighbors.

"Crosses may grow on Anzio, but this soldier wants to sleep right now..."

He dared to pick up his phone to check the time. He could feel it wasn't as early as he used to get up for work, but...

6:30.

Considering classes didn't start until 9:00, he still had 2 and a half hours. "Well then... nevermind I guess," he said dejectedly.

"Thank God my sleep schedule is starting to become normal again." He rolled himself out of bed, already fairly alert as he tended to be. Even amongst a family that woke up fairly early he was always known as a morning person, even on days when he stayed up late the night before.

He checked his phone again as was habitual for him.

Only then did he notice it was Saturday.

No classes today.

His hand made impact with his face.

With an audible sigh he began his regimen for the morning. Looking at his makeshift calendar he had created he began to check up on his to-do for the day.

"Okay, what have I got for today... Okay, marksmanship practice at 12:00, study hall in the library from 2:00 'til 4:00 _―_ Thank God I actually have been doing actual studying for a change―and..."

His finger traced a line to Sunday.

The field trip to Forever Fall Forest was set for that day.

He let out a huff. Considering how much ire Jaune's situation with Cardin was causing him, Jacob was more than happy to see _Forever Fall_ come to fruition.

Especially the notion of watching Cardin run screaming like a little girl.

Jacob chuckled darkly as he set about cleaning up. A shower and a quick trim-up of his facial hair, he was ready to hit the streets.

Leaving the dormitories he soon found himself on the path to the mess hall, about a solid 3 minute walk or so away at a leisurely pace. Above him the early morning sky was a mix of small, fluffy clouds dotting a deep blue sea of infiniteness. Looking up, Jacob couldn't help but remember the morning skies over his home; the city lazily sleeping in the shadow of the mountains as the sun crept upwards into the sky and brought a deep blue to the wild yonder. Heck, on some mornings he and his family would go outside onto the backyard patio and eat breakfast, usually having to do so on Saturdays with his accursed work schedule. He remembered how he would usually cook up his homemade diced potatoes while his dad would fry up some cube steaks and a batch of biscuits, while his little brother would lounge about and keep the family dogs preoccupied so they wouldn't get underfoot and his mom would get drinks and... and...

He didn't know when it started happening, but he began to notice his eyesight had begun to blur. He ran a hand across his eyes and found it wet with tears.

Every time his thoughts drifted to home, he was finding that he couldn't help but cry. Even if it was barely enough tears to even roll down his face, he felt like crying in public would bring undue attention to him.

Worse still had it been Cardin.

Muller knew right from the moment that Cardin and Jaune began hanging out that the story was continuing to advance as was canonical. By extension, he already had a good clue as to how things would go from here on... at least as far as he hoped. Jaune would be forced to make a choice between helping Cardin and throwing those... bees or whatever they were―wait, rapier wasps, that's what they were called―at Pyrrha or flipping him the metaphorical bird.

So long as canon adhered, Cardin would be leaving Forever Fall Forest humiliated beyond belief.

If canon adhered...

The very notion sent another pit into Jacob's stomach; if canon is thus far adhering accordingly, then what happens when the Battle of Beacon happens? If canon had thus far not deviated in any sense other than inserting him into situations, could he actually break canon when the time came?

 _Can I even save Pyrrha? Am I on a doomed mission?_

By now Jacob had realized that he had diverted off-course, and had now begun wandering the Academy's gardens, not far from where Jaune and Ruby first had begun their friendship.

A fanboy part of his mind growled in response to the image.

 _Lancaster._

As much as he was all for Jaune finding happiness in the canonical timeline, the FNDM's willingness to jump right to Lancaster left a sour taste in his mouth. Though he was late to join, even he knew by now how many who were loyal to Arkos had jumped ship to join their rival.

With him, Arkos clung hard to him, like a mynock from _Star Wars._ Something about it felt far more endearing than the fan-pairing of Ruby and Jaune, even if it did have potential for some cute scenes between the two leaders. Lancaster―even if it took them 'til the absolute end of the series to make official―just felt forced to him.

Then again, the same could be said of Arkos as he had told himself time and time again in the past when observing Reddit ship wars.

But something about being here―in the flesh, in the world of Remnant―was making his old Matchmaker side roar to life again.

 _Jesus Christ, I need to get a hold of myself. If Lancaster becomes canonical in the series... so be it I guess._ Shaking his head to get the psycho-fan part of him to be dormant again, he remembered that so long as his mission is accomplished that it will be of little to no current concern.

 _Goddamnit, the emotional investment I'm giving this all is borderline psychotic,_ he thought to himself with a palm strike to his head for punctuation.

He glanced over at the tower. The emerald and black walls of the tower gleamed in the morning sun, doing its damndest to mimic Frank Baum's Emerald City. Somewhere within the tower, Ozpin was no doubt just waking up, or perhaps he was already awake and ready for the day.

Somewhere within, some kind of MacGuffin Relic was floating about that Salem also had a great deal of interest in. _I bet it's the cane._

And somewhere down below, hundreds of feet below the earth, was a comatose Amber.

...

...

 _Christ, I can't believe I'm doing this... but I need someone to talk to._

* * *

"...Goddamnit all, what the fuck was that damn passcode again?"

Muller stood before the elevator door several minutes later, scratching his head as he desperately tried to remember the passcode to the elevator for the lower levels.

"Okay, okay, if I remember correctly... it had something to do with Disneyland...?"

Much to his chagrin, the only thing he could remember was that it had something to do with one of the anniversary dates of Disneyland... or something in that range. For a guy who pretty much went once a year he knew perhaps too much to not call it an obsession all its own. Then again that logic could apply to his whole family, what with his dad's home theatre room decorated with ride posters from the parks.

"...I think it was the day before the... 59th anniversary?" His finger began to move for the keypad before he recoiled back in fear. What if it was a one-time only kind of deal? If he screwed up just once would Ozpin and Glynda would reduce his ass to grass?

"Damn it all, damn it all, what is it!?" he hissed to no one as he paced in front of the door. Fortuitously, it was inside the tower lobby and away from the prying eyes of the rest of the student body, giving him plenty of privacy to crack the code.

"Why now of all times does my memory go slack on me? Remember the date, remember the date, remember the date..."

Then something in his mind clicked.

 _The day after... Disneyland's... 58th._

 _July 17th_ _―no, July 18th... 2013._

 _0...7...1...8...1...3._

He punched in the numbers slowly, making certain he hit the exact code. At the same time, something was whispering in his mind that it was familiar for another reason.

Something to do with an air date or something...

He hit the enter button.

 _ **BLING!**_

A green light.

"Hallelujah."

* * *

...

...

"...Hello?"

No answer.

"Alrighty then."

Jacob began walking down the long, dark, abyssal corridor leading to the Fall Maiden.

The walk was long... and quiet. The only sound to be made were the muffled footfalls from his hiking shoes.

"Jesus, it's creepy in here... being alone and whatnot..."

As he walked down the dark and menacing hallway of the Vault, Muller began pondering to himself.

 _All things considered, I shouldn't even be down here. Hell, all things considered I shouldn't even be in this world. Sure, I've been blessed with an actual Aura, my days practicing with the family firearms is starting to pay off, and my knowledge of the situation gives me an unprecedented level of control over things... but do I have the control? The power? Can I even do this? What happens if something deviates too far from canon and I'm no longer able to predict things out? What happens if canon adheres so much that it is impossible to change it? What happens then if I can't save Pyrrha?_

After a solid minute and a half of walking―during which Jacob began to wonder if he technically was even under Beacon anymore―he reached the end of the corridor.

There before him was that same sight he had first been shown some weeks ago when he first arrived here. Amber remained in her stasis pod, or whatever they wanted to call it, teetering on the razor's edge of life and death. Now, with no one else here with him, he could hear the mechanical whirrs and hums of the machine desperately keepng her alive. The green glow of the room cast her in a sickly shade, accented only by the veiny, darkened patch resting on her left eye. It left her a pale visage of the Maiden he saw in the flashbacks of _Beginning of the End._ Yet, despite her sickly pallor, she seemed at peace, no doubt her comatose state preventing her from feeling any significant pain. no doubt if he could safely flip her on her stomach he would see the impact site of Cinder's arrow where it pierced her lower back.

 _Cinder..._

He couldn't help but clench a hand in a fist of anger. But before he could begin calling her evermore-progressively worse slurs and curses―and he knew quite a few―he took a few deep breaths, aware that his newly-found anger was beginning to gather a mind of it's own.

He stared at her for what felt like hours, drinking in the bitter sight.

 _Damn, no wonder Qrow resorts to drinking if this feeling is not unfamiliar to him._

After what felt like even longer, he gathered up the courage to speak up.

"...Hi... Amber."

Silence.

"The name's Jacob... Jacob Muller..."

Still nothing. The peaceful look on her face never left.

"So... uhm... I guess I first owe you an apology for... lying about knowing you to Ozpin."

No response.

"I'll take your silence as forgiveness," he joked weakly. _Look at me,_ he thought to himself, _cracking wise to a comatose girl I've never actually met up until now._

"So... uhm... I suppose it's only prudent that I get an idea of who you are... problem is, there's no real way to, well, _know_ you now. Sure, if I'd been plopped here by... whatever did this... a few years back in the timeline, maybe we could have met, maybe I could have done something... maybe I'd be even more ready for what's to come."

It was like talking to a tombstone. Part of him felt silly since there was no one to hear him―unless Ozpin had hidden cameras or something, which was not something he enjoyed the prospect of―but another part of him was happy that he could talk to someone freely about his situation, whether she was unconscious or not.

"Heh, it's a shame really, I would have loved to have been friends with a fire-conjuring demigoddess. Lord knows I surrounded myself with oddballs in high school... Anyway, I guess since you're... well, you know, not conscious, it's okay to―" He stopped, looking behind him out of fear of being spotted or being found out. "...I guess it's safe to talk to you since we're... alone and all."

 _Not creepy at all, Jacob._

He leaned back against the pillar opposite to Amber's pod, his arms crossed in contemplation. "So... where do I begin? Oh, how about with the fact I'm not from Remnant? Heheh, I think there must be a padded cell at the funny farm with my name on it in big bold letters," he joked morbidly. "But, in all seriousness... I'm not from any of the kingdoms, I'm not from a border-town, I'm not from some mobile gypsy-type tribe in the middle of Bumblefuck, Nowhere, I'm just... I'm not from here. This is not the planet I was born on."

No reply.

He scratched his head in awkward silence. "I, uh, I kinda hail from this planet called Earth―or Terra if you're a sci-fi geek―It's a lot like here but, well, we kinda... sorta... don't _have_ Grimm, for starters."

Nothing. Not even a blink or a twitch.

Muller was starting to feel like he was legitimately losing his mind. Here he was, talking to a near-dead girl with demigod-tier superpowers in a secret vault beneath an academy on a planet that was technically fictional back home. A psychologist would be bankrolling off this level of nuttiness for a lifetime and a half.

"And, well, besides that, there's a lot of other significant changes between the two. I mean, if I went over them all we'd be here 'til next week. Granted it's not like you're..."

If she had been awake, he would have felt even more awful saying that last sentence. He uncomfortably shifted, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

"...If you were awake, you'd probably be calling for Ozpin to get this crazy person away from you ASAP. Personally I wouldn't blame you; talk of other worlds with human life on it and the like would definitely be in the crazy department. Hell, I still wake up the next day and wonder if this is all a dream or something... up until I look out the window and see Beacon Tower, obviously." He chuckled at his own foolishness.

Shifting back to his feet, he walked over to the comatose Maiden. Leaning in he could make out every detail of the blackened lines that crisscrossed her face from that strange bug-glove that Cinder wore when she attacked.

"I kinda have to wonder how long ago you arrived here. Weeks? Months? Were you attacked just before I arrived here or did I miss it by a couple of weeks?" He scratched his chin in curiosity. "So many questions, but no mouths from which I could truly get answers. What a pickle."

He looked down at her, a sense of remorse filling his heart; he had lied to Ozpin that he knew her and in turn had gained access to the Ozluminati with little difficulty―granted, was that to stay was beyond his comprehension―And yet in all reality he knew _nothing_ about this girl he was supposed to be troubled about.

"I guess it gets pretty lonely in here... all on your own. I mean, certainly Glynda and Ozzie come down to check up on you, right, so you can't be completely alone, right?"

Silence.

"...I guess it wouldn't hurt to visit every once and awhile. I hope you don't mind me dropping by like this." He shrugged jestingly at the comatose girl, still earning him no response. "Anyway, I guess I should get going. Things to do, classes to take, people to see..." He started backing away towards the elevator, shooting her the pointer-finger pistols pose _a la_ The Fonz. "But, uh, I promise I'll come back... keep you some company when I can."

Not a single word. Not even a whisper outside the mechanisms keeping her alive.

"Well... take care... Fall Maiden."

He looked at her peaceful face one last time before beginning the returning hike to the elevator.

He felt the tears begin to creep again as _Heroes and Monsters_ played in his mind.

"I'm so sorry, Amber," he whispered to the abyss behind him.

No voice. No sound. Not even a whisper.

Just a blackened abyss highlighted in emerald green.

The doors to the elevator closed and Muller was alone once again.

* * *

It was late into the evening when Jacob finally returned to the dorms. Granted, his entire day had been spent either at the library, where his study patterns had finally manifested themselves _2 YEARS_ after he had graduated from high school, or at the gun range for marksmanship training.

Granted, with how often his family was at their local gun range, the latter was practically subconcious routine.

Tired from the long day of being on his feet or mentally running laps around this world's history― _No way on God's green Earth Monty could have come up with all of this_ ―he opted to commandeer the elevator for the ride up. For the second time in a day he was alone in an elevator with his thoughts.

"I think I kinda surprised them at the gun range with how well I shot with Titan," he sighed to himself, patting the Bersa he had arrived with. By now around half of the metallic blue finish to it had worn away, giving it a a blue and grey camo-like wear to the design. Paired with the gold finishes here and there, Muller had opted to name the Earth-borne firearm Titan after the moon of Jupiter, in which the Warhammer 40K universe had seen fit to make the monastery-home of the Grey Knights Chapter. His basic mentality was that since it had racked up about four or five Grimm kills within his first 48 hours in the world of Remnant, and since Grimm were―for lack of a better comparison―fairly equivalent to Daemons, to him it only made sense to name it in honor of the master Daemonhunters...the 6th Edition incident with the Sisters of Battle and very existence of Kaldor Draigo notwithstanding.

"Titan and Cadia. Heh I should be wearing a baseball cap that's either got the Imperial Aquila on it or a 'This Man Is a Warhammer Maniac' on it just to complete the ensemble."

the elevator pinged as he reached the freshman floor. Fortunately for him it was a short walk to his dorm from the lifts, just around the corner and a walk past RWBY and JNPR's dorms.

Right as he rounded the corner to their hallway, however, he nearly bumped into Jaune, looking downcast at his Scroll in his hand.

"Woah, careful there Jaune," he said to the Arc boy, "you're kinda in the walking path right there."

"Huh? Oh," Jaune quickly realized before stepping out of the way. "Sorry, I, uh, I got something I gotta go do real quick, tell my team I'll be there in a bit."

Jacob quickly put two-and-two together; the rapier wasps.

"Cardin sending you out on another errand, isn't he?" Jacob said as he crossed his arms and leaned into the wall directly in front of Jaune.

"What? No, no, nonono, I mean, whatever gave you... that... idea..."

Jacob had an urge to laugh at how merely cocking his left eyebrow was enough to kill Jaune's reply while it was still in his throat. "Jaune," he began, "You know you don't have to cower in his shadow. He's a bully, maybe, but bullies are mostly talk; Cardin's no exception."

"But... I mean, he knows about... you know."

"And... your point is?"

Jaune shuffled nervously. "What happens if I say no to him? What happens if he rats me out? I'll tell what will happen, I'll be on the first ride out of here courtesy of Professor Ozpin no doubt about it!"

"Don't be silly Jaune, Ozpin's not that heartless. Look, if he was, would he _really_ have let your fake transcript slip past his radar, hmm? Hell, he let me in without so much as a lick of training under my belt, and yet he hasn't kicked me out! I doubt that the idea has even crossed his mind."

That seemed to cut through Jaune's hesitation for but a brief moment. Muller locked eyes with him, the look in those blue eyes of his telling Jacob that he was starting to break through the fear and hesitation. He pressed the attack.

"Look Jaune, you can either go through life as his _whippin' boy_ ," Jacob said with an intentional Southern drawl to emphasize his point, walking up to the younger man and putting a firm hand on his shoulder, "or you can go up to the bastard and tell him to pound sand down a rat hole."

The worried look in Jaune's eyes spoke volumes; He was too afraid of Cardin at the moment to even comprehend standing up to him.

"I'm sorry, Jacob, but... I gotta go." He shrugged Jacob's hand off his shoulder and jogged around the corner and out of sight, leaving Muller alone in the hall again.

A heavy sigh escaped Muller's mouth. "Idiot," he angrily muttered before turning and returning to his dorm.

Tomorrow was certainly going to be interesting.

* * *

A sea of crimson, miles and miles across and wide.

Above it all, a bright morning sky with the sun compounding the intensity.

"Sweet Jesus on rye, did I succumb to the Red Thirst while I wasn't paying attention?"

Even with Muller's sunglasses on to mute the colors and the brightness, the intense bright red of the Forever Fall Forest did not help his caffeine-deprivation migraine. While everyone else was busy taking in the sight of the beautiful forest trail, admiring the red-capped trees as they lightly shed some of their leaves in an encarmine rainfall, Muller was busy trying to shake the headache loose from his skull at the same time as he was attempting to catch up on said caffeine intake. Even if he did tend to leave his tea to brew for hours on end, currently it was far from enough to kill the headache quickly.

The group of Huntsmen-in-training for the field trip consisted of several teams, including JNPR, RWBY and sadly CRDL. Led by Glynda, the group had made it deep into the forest and off the beaten path, now it was but untapped wilderness with no doubt plenty of Grimm floating about with a hunger in the back of their mind. Muller had taken to the left edge of the group as a sort of rear guard of a kind beside Nora, whom had taken to attempting to cheer him up. Needless to say, since it was Nora it was working amazingly.

"Yes, students," began Glynda, "The forest of Forever Fall is indeed beautiful. But we are not here to sightsee. Professor Peach has asked all of you to collect samples from the trees deep inside this forest, and I'm here to make sure none of you die while doing so."

 _Ah yes, Professor Peach,_ Jacob sighed in bemusement mentally, _damn-near a carbon copy of a certain Nintendo princess, with the advantage of probably being 60 IQ points ahead of that airhead. I wonder if that was intended by Monty or not..._

The group came to a stop, followed by the sound of Jaune's grunts and groans as he brought up the rear, carrying the assortment of jars needed for their assignment today; collecting the red sap of the Forever Fall trees.

 _Now all we need are those two Ursai and we're in business,_ he continued in his mind.

"Each of you is to gather one jar's worth of red sap," Professor Goodwitch continued, "However, this forest is full of the creatures of Grimm, so be sure to stay by your teammates. As Mr. Muller here is our resident Lone Wolf, he will be accompanying me today. We will rendezvous back here by 4 o'clock. Have fun!"

That threw Jacob off. "Uh, wait, with you Professor?"

She threw him a look that subtextually said that he either do as she say or risk being sent home in a matchbox.

"Right, right, of course ma'am..."

Looking back behind him, he saw Cardin take off flying with Jaune's collar in hand and the rest of JNPR walking off on their own, albeit with Pyrrha lagging behind a bit with a forlorn look on her face.

Jacob sighed in dejection. _Guess I'm not gonna see Jaune take a level in badass after all..._

The two began their trek through the forest at a leisurely pace, Jacob strolling along on her left flank while she moved on forward. As they walked, he felt the slightest tinge of fear in his veins of being alone with the one teacher who could―and no doubt happily _would_ ―send him "flying ass-over-teakettle" has his grandma used to say. It would be a few hours 'till everyone was back together again, meaning that Muller would have to spend 4 or so hours _alone_ with Glynda.

The word "eek" came to mind.

"So... Glynda," he began, trying to break the tension after 20 odd minutes of silence, "If I may be so bold as to address you―while we're alone, mind you―as a colleague in our... organization. I hope you don't mind."

She seemed to hesitate on the question before answering, "I suppose while the other students are elsewhere we are free to... discuss our position."

Muller couldn't help but chuckle. _Double entendre detected, suppressing joke subroutine,_ he jokingly thought to himself in a robotic tone. "Fair enough. So tell me, did you know... Amber, before she became the Maiden?"

Once again there was a tone of hesitation to her body language; it was if she was still gauging whether or not he was a threat or not to the organization. _By rights she should be,_ he debated in his mind, _For all she knows I could be an agent of Salem in disguise much like Cinder will be, or perhaps a third party with a different agenda. Man, that would make things so cool._

After a tense second, she answered with a sigh. "Yes... I did actually. She was a student here at Beacon, ironically enough, best in her class in combat; why, even I sparred with her on occasion during her final year. Sweet girl, though she never did have that large of a circle of friends... What fortune for us when Ozpin requested that she be made the next Fall Maiden. Less people to be concerned about her, as it was..."

Muller was absorbing this like a sponge, the notes, the details, and _especially_ the emotion. He had never heard Glynda Goodwitch talk like this before in the show; she was solemn and almost somber, as though it were a wound not yet fully healed.

"At first," she continued, "I was concerned that she wouldn't be ready for the revelation, goodness knows I wasn't when Ozpin first showed me the truth. Regardless she took to the task surprisingly well. Unfortunately we were pressed for time and... as much as Ozpin trained her... I guess there was someone out there who was more prepared."

The distant look in her eyes made Jacob uncomfortable; it was like listening in on a very personal conversation, one that he shouldn't really be hearing. How close were Amber and Glynda? Was it a teacher and protege-type thing? Sisterly bond? How far did it go? Granted, the smart thing would be to not pry in this situation, but Jacob was known to harbor a Pandoran curiosity; he never could leave well enough alone.

By now Muller had picked out a tree to begin sapping for the crimson nectar, setting up his gear and the like for the process. While he was from a part of America where maple trees and the like didn't necessarily grow very well, he was familiar with the basics of the task. Glynda took a seat on a large boulder a few feet away, sitting elegantly with her legs crossed and her back straight. Along with the distance in her eyes, she was beginning to wear the slightest bit of a frown. Now normally she had a small frown of some kind on her face, that was just the kind of person she was. But this time... this time it was a sad frown, the hard edge in her features having mysteriously vanished from sight. It was like looking at a completely different person. Jacob remembered how many amidst the FNDM believed that it was a form of coping mechanism, that her callous mood and strictness were her way of masking pain. After all, it was a fairly good chance that not all of her students would full lives in this line of work...

No doubt she had lost people in the past. However close, whatever relationship she had with them... well, it was not his place to ask.

Muller was starting to feel a bit nauseous at the sight of the crimson sap bleeding out of the tree.

"I... I actually didn't learn much about her during the time I met her. I mean I never really asked too much about her when we met... I just kinda was... y'know, in shock of it all. I mean she was always kind, she leant a hand to help to everyone," he somberly added as he remembered Emerald's deception, "but outside of that... I don't really know that much about her. Thank you... Professor."

He received a big sigh from her in return. "Please, Mr. Muller, while we're alone like this... call me Glynda. Or Ms. Goodwitch, if you prefer to remain formal."

He let a bemused smile slip. "'Miss' Goodwitch? I didn't figure you to be a solo act at all; Actually, I kinda wondered if you and Oz were an item. Or is it just pro―"

"It is _JUST_ professional, Mr. Muller," she said with a hint of urgency in her voice.

He had to chuckle. "Fair enough, fair enough. Anyway, now how about we talk about something that won't give us butterflies in the stomach, eh?"

For the next hour the two spoke casually, learning what they could of the other as what were essentially co-workers. Granted, Muller was providing a sanitized version of himself so as to not arouse too much suspicion, but regardless of that he was still fairly open with her. For the most part he was leisurely about the subjects brought up, even with his continuous extraction. She on the other hand remained very composed and professional, though the edge in her tone and posture had relaxed as well.

"...and by some divine roll of the cosmic dice, I actually _fixed_ her hip when I tripped her on accident!"

Glynda let out a bemused chuckle. "How on Remnant did you manage that?"

"Honestly, I have no idea! That's the part that I still waffle over to this day; how did her hitting the ground because I passed in her walking path manage to fix her hip? I dunno! And it'll always be a mystery as far as I'm concern―"

A loud roar in the distance cut his sentence in half. An ursine roar.

 _Showtime, Jaune._

"That sounded too close."

"I wholeheartedly agree," Goodwitch replied, the hardened exterior returning. Guess it was fun while it lasted.

"Get the rest of the students and high-tail it?"

A nod was all she responded with.

"Knowing this group's luck, we probably should _follow_ the Ursa's roar." He took off at a sprint, the cardio he had been working on over the last 6 weeks now giving him a little more stamina in the long haul. Granted, he was still very much a short distance sprinter rather than an endurance runner.

Glynda was soon on his six, doing amazingly for being in high heels.

"Who do you wanna bet has found the Ursa first? My money's on Xiao Long!"

"We can bet later," Goodwitch replied, "They may be in trouble!"

She overtook him quickly, much to his astonishment. By now he was already losing that initial steam he had, heart hammering and lungs burning.

"Quickly, Mr. Muller, or we may be headed home with one less student!"

"I'm wasted... on cross-country! I'm a natural... sprinter; very dangerous... over short distances!" he shouted back through labored breaths. Even with 6 weeks of daily cardio to buff him up, he was still a far cry from being able to stay in the lead in a footrace for long. "Don't worry about me Glynda... just get to them!"

Without hesitation she took off like a bolt, and was soon deep in the forest.

Leaving him to fend of himself.

"In... hindsight... that was... a stupid move... on my part," he said to no one.

But his attention was soon stolen away by the sudden passing of Ruby, Weiss and Pyrrha across his path. He skidded to a halt. "Wait, wait, where are you going?!" he shouted to them.

"No time!" Ruby shouted.

"Jaune's in trouble, follow us!" quipped Pyrrha without so much as a single look behind her.

Muller was confused; "The Ursa roar was coming from that direction!" he pointed towards the direction of where Glynda went running.

Weiss turned around, a scowl lighting up her face. "That's not the Ursa after Jaune! Ugh, just follow us you dolt!"

"But... bu-but... Aargh!" Defeated, Jacob took off after them as fast as he could. By the time he caught up with them, Cardin and Jaune had engaged the creature.

And whoo-momma, it was a big beastie.

On all fours, it stood a solid 9 or so feet tall when the massive stalactite-like spines were not accounted for. Appearance-wise, it was definitely an Ursa; sloping back, squat face, stubby ears, the standard white bone-like plates of a creature of Grimm, the usual. But the big kicker was the size, massive spines and additional bony plates all across its body.

This thing was an Ursa Major. And a pretty big―and by extension old―one at that.

At first, Jacob was wanting to dive headlong into the fight.

But about that time two things went off in his head.

One: He remembered that Jaune's gotta be the one to save Winchester's sorry ass from Baloo over there, lest Cardin rat on Jaune and, well, there goes canon out the window.

Two: Something was wrong with him.

Seriously, something was wrong.

He looked down at his hand to notice he had started balling them tightly, to a point where they were almost white-knuckle at the moment. At the same time they were trembling like a leaf, like he'd tanked up on sugar earlier. Hie heart was racing, though not from the running; this was more like a panic attack than anything else.

 _What the fuck is wrong with me?!_

Despite whatever the hell was going on with him, he returned his attention to the fight with the Ursa; Jaune had take a few swings at the beast, but it had sent him flying twice now. Looking over Pyrrha's shoulder at the Aura meter on her Scroll, Jacob could see Jaune was already dangerously low; another good swing and the beast would have him in a position to deliver a killing blow.

"Tank up, Jaune!" Jacob screamed, a slight waver in his voice. "Don't get too aggressive!"

He either didn't hear Jacob, or Jaune didn't want to listen to Jacob.

He lunged forward, bringing his sword up in an attempt at an overhead stab. His shield was low, however, giving the Ursa an opening to cleave Jaune's head from his shoulders.

Time slowed to a terrifying crawl.

Out of the corner of his eye, the canon continued to wind its gears forward; Pyrrha brought up her hand to reach out to Jaune, a black aura―not that kind of Aura―encircling her hand.

Jaune's shield briefly glowed the same color, before shifting just upwards to intercept the paw. The clawed paw made impact, but Jaune's shield spared him a premature trip to the morgue. Forced to take a knee and go to ground for but a brief second, Jaune caught a second wind...

...And promptly cleaved the Ursa Major's head off in one go.

The Ursa's torso topped to the ground with a thud and remained motionless before gradually beginning to dissipate into a black smoke. Jaune Arc stood triumphant―tired, sporting a black eye to be sure, but triumphant nonetheless―over the beast's body... and over a still-cowering Cardin Winchester.

"Uhh... what?" came the voice of Ruby from behind Jacob.

"How did you..."Weiss chimed in.

"Well," Pyrrha began to explain, "Ruby has her speed, you have your Glyphs, my Semblance is Polarity."

"You can control poles," Ruby said in awe.

 _God Alive, she is adorable,_ Jacob said in his mind. "Ruby, it means she can command magnetic fields," Jacob said with a bemused sigh.

"Magnets are cool too," was all she could reply with. It was enough to make Jacob openly chuckle, despite the previous jitters remaining in his hands.

All the while the mark on his arm from where the Ursa attacked him on that first day began to feel itchy.

"Wait," Weiss called out to Pyrrha as the Huntress began to walk away, "where are you going?"

"Yeah, we gotta tell them what happened!"

"We could," Pyrrha said with a coy smile, "Or perhaps we could keep it our little secret?"

A shared look between Weiss and Ruby said all they needed to before the two also began walking away.

"I think I'll second that," Jacob said with an exhausted sigh. "But first, I'm gonna stick around to watch this."

Jaune walked over to Cardin, the bullying bastard sitting there like a meek excuse of a man. Jaune―sporting a menacing glower now―offered Winchester a hand up. Surprisingly, Cardin took it with a look of both embarrassment and awe on his face; how the hell those two could come together as a facial emotion was beyond Jacob. A meek smile was sent Jaune's way via Cardin.

"Holy crap, Jaune!"

"Don't _ever_ mess with my team―my _friends_ ―ever again." Jaune's face was a terrifying mix of righteous anger and furious vengeance all rolled into one scowl. "Got it?"

Cardin didn't even reply, though the look on his face spoke volumes of, _Sorry, won't happen again_ , in Jacob's opinion. Jaune Arc walked away to catch up with his team, leaving Muller and the Winchester boy alone.

"Hey, Cardin!" Jacob called out, snapping Winchester out of his stunned stupor. "We should probably find Professor Goodwitch and get everyone out of here."

"Uh... yeah, sure," Cardin replied, the confusion and humiliation of his situation hitting him hard by the look of things. The two closed the distance between one another before they began to follow behind the group.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Cardin spoke up. "Hey, you okay there?"

Jacob shot him a confused and defensive look. "I'm pretty sure _I_ should be the one asking _you_ that. Regardless, I'm fine; why do you ask?"

"You've been holding your arm ever since we started walking."

Muller was about to call him out on that craziness before realizing something: Cardin was right. He had been holding onto his left arm just where the Ursa bite was from Initiation Day. When he had started doing it he had no clue, but it was more than a little...concerning.

"...Let's just get back to Beacon. I've had enough of seeing blood red for a while."

* * *

It was late into the evening when the party arrived at Beacon, most too tired to think of anything else than food, showers and sleep. The sun was low in the sky, just at the right angle to give the evening blue sky a slight tinge of red along the horizon. Muller himself had been deep in thought on the flight back, sitting closer to Goodwitch out of some mental comfort. Amazingly, Cardin and the rest of Team CRDL had spread out somewhat unlike RWBY and JNPR, who were closely knit together.

The cutest image was that of Jaune and Pyrrha leaning against one another in sleep as they dozed off halfway into the flight.

A heartwarming reminder as it were of what Jacob was also training to protect.

After the teams had returned to their dorms―With Muller saying some encouraging and hopefully well-taken words to Cardin―Muller rounded out the crowd by being the last one to get into his dorm. Swiping his Scroll―on loan from the school―in front of the door, he took 3 steps into the room before deciding on a shower and a shot of espresso; After all, he, Jaune and Pyrrha had sparring practice tonight, and if he didn't get that shot he's be passing out on the side of the wall... or worse, over the side of the roofing.

All the while he pondered the significance of the tremors and palpitations he had when he encountered the Ursa. Something there caused him to start doing all of that, whatever it all was. It just didn't make sense; he didn't act like this with other Grimm, though granted Beowolves and Creeps were the only other Grimm species he had encountered thus far. His time working on a minor in psychology began to run through what he knew so as to see if it was something perhaps mentally with him.

All the while the wound itched ever so slightly enough to just be noticeable.

* * *

After the shower and a run by the mess hall for a quick bite, Jacob found himself meeting Jaune on top of the dorms, the scenic view glowing in the moonlight.

"Hey Jaune," he said as he closed the door behind him, "How you holding up?"

"Oh, uhm, pretty good. I, uh, I've been kinda rolling over what happened today in my head. It's quite a lot, actually."

"Heh, that's understandable; you suppressed your bully _and_ KOed an Ursa Major all in one day," Jacob replied with a joshing punch to Jaune's shoulder. "That's one to write home about."

"Yeah, my sisters are gonna love hearing about today. Especially my oldest sister; she never thought I'd ever make it as a Huntsman."

"Older sister? I would have imagined you were the oldest." Jacob asked bluntly.

"Uh, no, she's eldest of all of us," Jaune replied. Muller felt a scowl spread across his face.

"What kind of older sibling does that to her younger sibling?! I mean, I would never stomp on my brother's dreams like that!"

"Well, it was never about whether or not I was _good,_ " Jaune continued, "Really she was always the protective big sis; She actually was vehemently-against me going. Too dangerous a line of work for me and all that."

"Oh... I see." Jacob's ire died in his throat as he processed this new intel; The show had yet to introduce the world to the 7 sisters of Jaune Arc, so in a sense he already had a bit of a leg up in the intel department. "What's her name, if you don't mind me asking?"

But before Jaune could answer, they both heard the door to the roof open. They turned to see Pyrrha joining them, redressed in her school uniform just as Jaune had.

"No Cardin tonight?" she asked hesitantly. "I thought you two were best buds?"

Jaune took a few steps in her direction, the two meeting up in the center of the rooftop. "Pyrrha... I'm sorry. I was a jerk! You were only trying to be nice, and... I had all this stupid macho stuff in my head-"

"Jaune," Pyrrha interrupted, "It's okay. Your team really misses their leader, you know," she added with an infectious smile that was soon joined by both Jacob's and Jaune's. "You should come down! Ren made pancakes! No syrup, though - you can thank Nora for that!" She turned around and began to walk back inside.

"Actually, you're safe from that nightmare: I never bring 'just enough', always 'more than enough' when it comes to condiments." In all actuality, he had taken a few jars of the crimson sap for just such a reason as cooking; his culinary side had tried to brainstorm what to use it with while on the flight back from Forever Fall.

Jaune stepped towards her, trying to get her attention. "Wait!" he called out to her. "I know I don't deserve it after all that happened, but... would you still be willing to help me... to help me become a better fighter?"

The two of them stood in silence for a few seconds.

What Jacob knew was that Pyrrha was hiding a satisfied smile from Jaune's gaze.

She about-faced and came up to Jaune. Without warning, she pushed him to the ground with a solid thud.

"Hey!"

"Your stance is all wrong. You need to be wider and lower to the ground... like Jacob, for one example." Pyrrha ignored Jacob's cry of mocking indignation and offered a hand up for Jaune, to which he graciously accepted. "Let's try that again."

As the two reconciled, Muller couldn't help but smile.

 _All according to plan,_ a mini-Tzeentch cackled in the back of his imagination.

"Hey, mind if I join this little _soiree?_ I probably should actually train with someone else rather than make things up as I go along..."

And under the stars, the three began their training...

* * *

 **AND CUT! *Falls over exhausted***

 **God, this was exhausting to try to get out to you guys before I head out on my vacation to Anaheim. Since it's gonna be a week disconnected at Disneyland (give or take) I probably won't be able to get out a chapter next week, though I'll probably dabble.**

 **Also, only now looking back at this, the chapter seems a bit.. cluttered. I dunno, let me know if you think so too.**

 **Regardless, favorite, follow and review this story as much as you lovely people can and when we come back, We'll find a Penny, and pick it up... though I doubt it will all-day bring good luck.**

 **Also, spot the references.**

 **Hope you enjoy the story and I will see you... in the next chapter. Buh-bye~!**


	12. The Stresses of Saving the Doomed

**Time a for a time-killer episode!~**

 **Trust me, I need this one badly...**

* * *

 **Chapter 12: The Stresses of Saving the Doomed**

 _"If the road is easy, the destination is worthless." —Saint Sabbat, Warhammer 40,000_

* * *

 _Okay, okay, so now that that assignment's done, I think I've got enough time now_ _—No, wait, dammit, I've got that essay to finish for Port! What if I try my usual late-nighter? No, no, no, that'll never work; I have yet to pull an all-nighter in years, and now is not the time to try it! Damnit, damnit, damnit, DAMNIT!_

The massive thunk his head when it met his desk made was probably audible to Ozpin's office, judging by the resounding pain it sent back into his skull.

"Ow."

A knock on the door; 4 taps in quick succession. Pyrrha's distinctive pattern.

"Jacob? Are you okay?"

"Ow... I'm alright Pyrrha, just... just getting a little aggravated with my schedule. Nothing to worry about."

 _Christ,_ he bemoaned mentally, _I've got training with her and Jaune tonight._

 _"_ Are you sure? Ren was offering to help if you need—"

"I appreciate the offer, Pyrrha," Jacob shouted back, "but I've just gotta get this figured out of my own accord. Tell Ren thanks, but I've got this one... I think." He cradled his head in his left hand, wanting to shake off the headache he was working on. The sore elbow he was sporting from leaning on it for the last half hour didn't help either.

No reply came back, though the sound of a door closing could be heard. He was safe... for now, at least.

He looked back at the massive mess of a schedule spread out atop his desk; assignments still needing the finishing touches, reports needing to be filed, personal evaluations he had been taking of his solo sparring matches, strategies for the Battle Of Beacon—now closing in on 5 and 1/2 months away—And even a prayer or two taken from his King James Bible scribbled onto a piece of paper to help his motivation. God knows how much mileage he was getting out of Psalms...

"Christ, why am I even bothering! Lion El'Jonson said it best, no plan survives first contact with The Enemy!" He lobbed a crumpled up piece of lined paper off the side of the wall and directly into the bin beside his nightstand; If it were a basketball hoop, it would have been nothing but net. _At least I can still throw an accurate shot,_ he sighed mentally. 2 weeks had passed since he had begun his late-night training sessions with Pyrrha and Jaune, and while he had to admit her lessons were giving him a greater level of skill with each passing day it was nowhere near fast enough to be able to be a fully-capable combatant in time for the Battle of Beacon. It just wasn't gonna happen; Sure, Jaune was taking to her style pretty well, and her lessons were doing him a ton of favors, but both Jacob and Pyrrha had come to the realization of Muller's biggest problem pretty quickly.

Jacob and his weapon were... well, to quote Pyrrha two nights previously... "not in-sync".

She never explained it all that well, but from what he had heard from her, it sounded to him like his fighting style didn't match with his weapon; admittedly he was hesitant in his swings, the ever-nagging concern of losing control of the weapon hanging over his head. Jaune had the advantage of owning a simple broadsword, only so dangerous if he swung and stabbed with it; Jacob on the other hand had essentially self-tasked himself with a weapon that simply squeezing the pommel at the wrong time in the wrong form could send someone to the hospital, or worse still the morgue. He had to be cautious with Cadia, lest her teeth be buried in an undeserving victim.

He glanced over at the weapon, now sitting in her gun form alongside Titan. If there was one thing he was good at, it was marksmanship. It had gotten to a point where he had challenged Ruby to a marksmanship competition late next week, so long as their papers for Professor Port were ready.

Muller cradled his face with his hand in a Picard-esque facepalm as the weight of his schoolwork also was laid bare before him. _I forgot how aggravatingly-tiresome being a fulltime student was. So many Goddamned assignments, so many bloody things to practice, so little time. I haven't felt this fucking stressed since Junior year._ Granted most of the stress was created of his own accord, what with his modus operandi being that he essentially has to flip destiny the concept a double bird, but still. And what was worse was that his normal de-stressors of games or model painting were kinda missing in action at the moment. He had started reading some of the novels he had found hiding in his backpack, thus far getting some decent mileage out of _Flight of the Eisenstein_ , and Blake had offered to let him borrow some of her books as well. Granted the most compelling book in her library involved a man with two souls—that got a legitimate laugh out of Jacob thinking of poor Oscar Pine and his soon-to-be cerebral roommate only to realize the implications. Come to think of it, he and Ozpin hadn't really discussed much after those initial few days when he first arrived. God, that felt so long ago now yet it was only about a month, almost two technically.

Not seeing home or family for two months wasn't exactly a comforting thought either. He'd since then had two more panic attacks, both times pissing him off on a personal level the following morning; He was supposed to be Huntsman now, and more than that a member of the Ozluminati. Panic and fear where his enemy, attractors of the Grimm and the stormclouds of the mind.

Ironically enough, in this position he would have to learn to know no fear.

And still yet there was that nagging in the back of his mind after the Ursa Major in the Forever Fall Forest. He had frozen up without even really attempting to do so; something about the situation forced him to freeze in place. A panicky part of his mind wandered to dark and semi-mystical places, that hit was but the first show of power by some quasi-divine force exerting its will over his own. But that was his panicky mind, always on about conspiracies and their ilk.

Just with everything piling atop everything else, Jacob had yet to truly relax for a while now. He needed to get out and relax; he couldn't fight if his mind was running in circles.

But if there was one thing that he did enjoy, it was letting loose on a target with no bars held back.

Picking up his phone and his Scroll—recently gifted to him by an "anonymous individual" with a name starting with the letter O no doubt—he plugged in his earbuds and holstered Cadia and Titan in his belt.

Jacob began towards the door, breathing in exasperation under his breath, "Daddy needs to express some rage..."

* * *

 _I don't wanna know your name~_

 **BLAM!**

 _'Cause you don't look the same~_

 **BLAM!**

 _The way you did before~_

 **BLAM! BLAM!**

 _Damn, I'm off to the left a bit._

The click of a new magazine entering the gun reached through his earbuds.

"Reloaded, re-engaging targets."

 _Okay then, let's try 4 rounds rapid._

 _Fox on the run~_

 **BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM!**

 _You scream and everybody comes a running~_

 **BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM!**

 _Take a run and hide yourself away~_

 **BLAM!-BLAM!-BLAM!-BLAM!-Click!-Click!**

The gaping hole dead center in the Beowolf-shaped target said he had at the very least maintained his accuracy. Sadly his precision was off, as every one of those shots was meant to hit along the target's horizontal meridian but only one it seemed managed to make that happen. Still the shots were only being snapped off at at the very least one every second; that wouldn't fly when life and death were on the line.

Granted in a real battle he wouldn't be standing in one place opening fire. Nor would he be standing there with his hearing muffled by the sounds of Sweet's _Fox on the Run_ , but that was hardly relevant here on a gun range.

Pulling out his earbuds, he took a look at the ammo he had requested. Fortunately the casing of Dust rounds actually worked in Titan, despite the Bersa being built on another fucking planet, and Cadia's pistol form was capable of carrying a decent count of bullets. Thus far he had only stuck to one pistol at a time, since it was much easier to aim at the time. Today was Cadia's day to shine and thus far she was landing every blow asked of her.

Muller couldn't help but smirk a little at his handiwork. Had that been a real Beowolf it would have looked more like Swiss cheese in a lupine form. Strangely he had found that he had the easiest time training against the image of Beowolves than most others. Sure Creeps were equally as numerous, but they were easy pickings even by his standards with their Hormagaunt-like headlong rushes. Fortunately for most Huntsmen, Creeps weren't sporting Scything Claws that could Rend on a good swing, nor were they super fast either. Beowolves were the standard Grimm most thought about, and rightly so; The Beowolves he had encountered that were on the smaller side had brute strength to their advantage but not enough brains to even fill a soup can, and the larger ones—though he had not yet encountered an Alpha—combined that strength with a much more tactical mind.

That would also better known as a better challenge.

Footfalls and the sound of something tapping on the ground alerted Jacob to his new companion. "Very impressive, Mr. Muller. Your marksmanship certainly is to Huntsman standards."

Jacob tensed up slightly. _Ozpin._

"Professor Ozpin? What are you doing here?" He holstered the metamorphosing firearm as the Headmaster came up to him, wearing a pleasant smile along with his usual attire and toting around his mug, now boasting hot cocoa instead of his morning coffee.

"Oh, I was simply out and about for my midday walk around campus and I heard from Glynda that you might be here. At least, according to her you seem to spend a lot of time here." Ozpin was studying him intently, though he was doing a good enough job of hiding his observations that only those who knew what to look for would know it. "Something tells me that you're not here to practice your already well-sufficient aim just for the sake of practice," Ozpin said as he looked over Muller, arching an eyebrow.

Jacob breathed a deep sigh, leaning into the back wall of the room with his hands tucked behind his back. "It's... it's just that these last few weeks have been... such a blur really. I mean it was a little over a month ago I was living a... relatively normal life, earning a paycheck, going home to family, the usual. I mean, sure I didn't really have a large social circle outside one or two of my co-workers, what with a lot of friends moving away to start their own paths... and I was stuck on the homefront, keeping the coals burning as it were... no real great ambitions or great roles to aspire to that was within reach... besides that it was just kinda... life, y'know? And now, now I've been thrust forth—by my own volition mind you, I'm not blaming your lot or anything—into this... insane position. A Huntsman in training... a savior of lives, a vanguard against the Grimm, the first and last line of defense." He scoffed at himself, hanging his head and adding, "I was so not prepared for this. And to top it off, I'm nowhere near as proficient as any of the rest of these students; Sure I've got skill at range, but every single student out here in a 1-on-1 melee matchup could send my ass to the floor. Fucking a, I'm so out of my league. Not to mention with all the assignments squeezing in time for training as well as some cool-down time is becoming a leviathan-like undertaking. Then again, I've never been good at making a schedule, so there's that I guess."

Muller looked back at Ozpin as he came down from his soliloquy. Ozpin simply stood there, sipping his hot chocolate, now well and truly unreadable; whatever was going through the Wizard of Oz's skull at the moment was as much a mystery as D.B. Cooper's stolen fortune.

"I'm sorry," Jacob began, "I go off on rants too often. Feel free to block that all out of your memory if you'd prefer."

"Hardly," Ozpin replied, "If anything as you are part of our student body—among other things," he added under his breath just loud enough for only Jacob to hear, "And any concerns you have are of our concern as well. While I do admit that we have been in need of a counselor for some time," he continued, placing his hand on Muller's shoulder, "I know someone who despite his occupation has always been happy to lend an ear when someone needs to talk. Someone you've already met."

Muller put two and two together fairly quickly. "You don't mean—I-I mean, surely he's busy tending to his forge and all—"

"I'm certain Vulkan would be happy to hear you out, Mr. Muller. Talking with someone about your concerns is a lot more productive than pouring your frustrations into ammo expenditure," he added with a faint smile. "And if anything, if he is not available, feel free to talk with me. I _am_ the Headmaster of the this Academy after all."

"As well as the head of other things," Muller muttered with a laugh. Ozpin shot him a dangerous look. "Sorry, sorry, I know, top secret and all." He sighed heavily, resigned to the notion of meeting the Forgefather lookalike again. "Okay. I'll head over in a few minutes," he said with a smile.

"Excellent," Ozpin said, before maneuvering over to Jacob's weapons, both set out on the table before them unloaded but still warm from the raw count of ammunition expelled from their muzzles. Ozpin set his mug down and picked up Cadia in his free hand, studying it closely. "I had yet to see your weapon outside of some cursory glances from afar. Cutlass, chainsaw and pistol all in one; quite the combination. However, seeing as you have two pistols ultimately, perhaps it would be a prudent strategy to look into fighting _akimbo._ "

That caught Jacob's attention. " _Akimbo?_ You've got to be joking Oz," he said with a laugh, "I can barely handle one pistol at a time, what makes you think I can dual wield? I mean sure it'd be pretty cool, but I doubt I have the capacity for it."

Ozpin simply stood there, no response to be found from his lips. It actually felt kinda creepy at this point. "I wouldn't say that you don't have the capacity for it; if anything it seems to me that you are limiting yourself based solely on what you are familiar with."

Jacob would have come up with a witty comeback had Ozpin not hit the metaphorical nail on the head.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"I... I..." Jacob stammered in response, really unable to come up with any counterargument. "I-I better get going, Oz-I mean Professor. I'll, uh, I'll catch you later." Muller swiped up his guns and phone before quickly exiting the range.

He looked back behind his shoulder. Ozpin was watching him as he was leaving.

 _I'm not that complacent to stay only in my comfort zone,_ he mused mentally. _I mean sure I tend to do better on a routine, but I can adapt pretty well._

Shaking his head, Jacob banished the thoughts to elsewhere in his mind. Honestly, Muller didn't even care at the moment, he had a Forgefather to go speak with anyhow.

* * *

An hour later, Muller was out in front of Firedrake Forgeworks, hesitating on whether or not he should go in and speak with Vulkan's doppleganger. The early afternoon sun was beating down from above, the summer temperatures of Vale closing in on the kind he encountered when he visited Disneyland every summer: boiling hot and humid like a sauna. Granted, if he stayed out in this heat much longer he'd probably drop dead then and there what with his bad experiences in the past with extreme heat.

"...Maybe Lord Vulkan-I mean Forgefather Vulkan-I mean _Forgemaster He'Stan's_ busy with a project. I mean sure it's a Sunday, but the door's open and the sign's on, so that _must_ mean he's inside. I probably shouldn't disturb him... but," Jacob said, stopping in his tracks as he began to mull about the situation, "I _guess_ Oz's got a point."

Once more through the door, Muller was met with the store entry, now sporting some noticeable changes; Several weapons and pieces of armor had been replaced or swapped out, though now strangely the Cataphractii Armor lookalike had taken a spot on the right wall, standing proud yet menacingly atop a low pedestal.

"Mr. He'Stan? Are you here sir?" Jacob shouted perhaps a might too loudly for his own taste. "It's Jacob! Professor Ozpin sent me over... I hope I didn't come at a bad time or anything!"

Just then, a thunderous sound blasted its way into the display floor from the back room, sending Jacob's heart pounding with the sudden burst of adrenaline. Then 2 seconds later, another booming sound; This time Jacob could hear the slight ring of metal making impact with metal. 2 seconds, **BOOM!** , 2 seconds, **BOOM!** , and it only went another 3 times before Jacob put two and two together. Vulkan must have been in the middle of forging something new.

"Well, into the belly of the beast," Jacob whispered to himself, inching to the door to the forge itself. The heat was palpable, the mouth of a dragon to his skin. Had he not been prepared for such heat, he would have waited and come back another time, but it was more or less now or never at the moment. Through the doors he went, not sure of what he would meet.

Once again he found his breath hitching at the sight of the plethora of weaponry and armaments adorning the wall; he doubted that he would ever get over the sight. But in truth the biggest thing in the room had his attention the most. Working at an anvil the size of a coffee table, Forgemaster Vulkan He'Stan was pounding away at a massive and intimidating slab of metal, just beginning to take the form of a sword. At that size, it was without a doubt a buster sword, one that would make Cloud from _Final Fantasy_ blush in envy of it and its owner. Once again, He'Stan was adorned in his leather apron and canvas pants, though this time the shirt underneath seemed to be a short-sleeved green T-shirt. His brow was drenched in sweat, at least judging by the way the light of the forge was bouncing off his forehead, and while there was some labour to his breathing he seemed to be in control of his motions, every swing controlled and precise.

 _The guy must have been doing stuff like this for years if he's got the focus and control to work in this kind of heat,_ Jacob thought to himself as the sweltering burn of the forge's flames incited a downpouring of sweat. He continued to watch from a distance as the powerful strikes began to shape the red-hot steel to the mould of He'Stan's will. The metal, though strong as ever in composition, yielded ever so to the massive strikes from the Forgemaster's hammer, weakened by the heat and force exerted upon it. It would succumb to his whims with every strike, the edges flattening out to become the razor edge of the buster sword, the body taking it's forger's ordained shape—judging by the silhouette it was casting it was vaguely akin to the _flamberge zweihanders_ found in Medieval Germany, the blade having a slight undulation throughout the body. Either Vulkan was creating this weapon for fun or some nutjob actually wanted a _flamberge,_ a weapon that most people couldn't even begin to take seriously. Even still, He'Stan continued to pound away at the metal with his hammer, ever concentrated upon the task at hand.

No wonder so many called it an art form.

"I hope my labouring has been of interest to you, Mr. Muller," Vulkan said in between strikes.

The hairs on Muller's back followed in the footsteps of a cat's back before he jumped back with a start. "Jesus Christ! How long have you known I was here?"

"Ever since you walked through the door," the Forgemaster replied as he set down the hammer and laid the blade to rest atop the anvil, the metal still glowing red with heat.

"Well, sorry to disturb you in the middle of, uh, your craft," Jacob said with a edge of nervousness, "I'll go wait outside."

"No, no, it's quite alright," the hulking weaponsmith said, "I was just about to take a few minutes break anyhow. I've been working on that blade for about 2 hours now and I was hoping to have her done early today. So," he continued, patting his apron to clear off the dust on his hands, "First of all, how have you been? It's been nearly 2 months since we last met, and Ozpin hasn't exactly been keeping up with me as much as I like."

"Oh, well, I've been, uh, pretty good as of late," Jacob started awkwardly, "Just been training and... studying... and surviving." The two had migrated back outside, the cooled air of the lobby feeling divine on his forehead.

Vulkan shook his head and chuckled. "No, no, no, I mean what have you been doing with life, hmm? Any hobbies, friends perhaps? We're not all about saving the world and training up, we need time to relax and compose ourselves. And you my friend," he added while reaching out to take Jacob's shoulder in a firm grip, "look as though you have run yourself ragged."

"...Well, uhm... I... I've really not done as much as the old me would prefer," Jacob said with a defeated sigh. "I haven't stressed like this in years, and the demands of everything have been really running me about. But how else am I supposed to keep up? I mean, I'm at _Beacon_ ; I have to be able to be the best Huntsman I can possibly be, and that means that I have a metric fuck-ton of training to do before things..." He struggled to complete his sentence as his mind wanted towards future events. "Before things really take off," he fibbed.

Silence consumed the room. Vulkan had taken to observing Muller closely out of the corner of his vision while Jacob had taken to fidgeting with a satin tag on the bottom corner of his shirt—a long-time nervous tick of his so long as there was a tag there to begin with—and was looking down towards the floor with a thousand-yard stare.

Jacob felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder. He looked up only to be greeted by a warm smile from the titanic weaponsmith.

"You need to slow down and relax for a bit," Vulkan said quietly. The smile he was offering was genuine, almost scarily so; Jacob had only met him once before, and yet He'Stan was genuinely concerned for his well-being.

It was like being in the same room as Ruby... if Ruby were a 6'8" facsimile of the Forgefather of the Salamanders chapter.

Muller was quiet for all of a few seconds before he returned Vulkan's smile. "Okay."

He'Stan's eyes enlivened with mirth. "Excellent. Now, tell me, what do you enjoy doing the most?"

Muller pondered for a few seconds before giving his answer. "I've always been partial to drawing and painting; the latter I'm okay at for more impressionist styles, but drawing with me has always been about getting the basic layout and then going back in for the details."

"Ah, an artist. Have you done any paintings thus far?"

"Well, no, but with my workload and such it's been a bit of challenge to even begin to try—"

"Nonsense!" Vulkan cried out in amusement, "There is always time to add some beauty to this world! Why, look about my shop! Though every item here I do make certain to be in tip-top combat shape, I don't simply rinse and repeat the designs over and over; each one is a piece unto itself, much like your sword there."

Jacob looked down at Cadia, the blade resting cozily in her scabbard. He had to admit, in a strange way it was a masterpiece in it's own right. A weapon that had even 2 "forms" was nigh-impossible back on Earth, 3 forms was about as likely as reaching the Moon with a man-sized slingshot. Even then, the blade was designed with a simple elegance that hid within a terrifying beast of a weapon, beautiful in its own right as well. "I... I hadn't thought of it like that, Vulkan. But you _are_ right in all reality."

The Forgemaster simply gave him a satisfied smile. "Well, besides that, is there anything else you do for fun or to relax?"

"Well," Jacob continued, "I do enjoy a good novel here and there—actually I had talked with Ms. Belladonna in passing about 2 weeks ago in regards to a book trade between the two of us. Besides that, uhm, I don't exactly meditate or anything like that. I mean as of late I've been pouring my relaxation into sending Dust charge downrange at the school range and whatnot...but come to think of it that's not necessarily relaxing; I mean every time I end up just practicing my marksmanship, I don't just shoot for _fun_ like I used to with..." he stopped as memories of home returned in force, "...with my family." He swallowed the sob in his throat and closed off the floodgates mentally so as to not seem weak before Vulkan.

"Oh... I see. I'm... I'm sorry to hear that." Vulkan's tone had taken on a dour turn after Jacob mentioned his own family.

"Well... there's no use in crying over the past," Jacob said as the mental floodgates threatened to buckle, "I can only look to the future and fight for a better one, right?"

Vulkan smiled at his response, as if he had heard all he needed to hear. "Exactly. It's what they would want."

 _What they would want..._ the words echoed about in Jacob's mind as if attempting to make a point. _Vulkan's right... in a way. I don't know if I can ever get home... but it will do me no good to make myself keel over worrying._

 _If not just for my sake, but for Pyrrha's too... and Penny's... and, hell, even Oz's sake._

But even with those words in mind, a part of Jacob's mind nagged him about being too optimistic. _After all,_ his subconscious sneered in the voice of Fyodor Karamazov, _Hope is but the first step on the road to disappointment._ Muller in retaliation imagined Krazypantsoff being chased off by a pack of _Jurassic Park_ raptors, a very fun image to have about in the back of his mind.

"Now, perhaps what would be the best thing for you to do right now," Vulkan continued calmly, "is to head back to Beacon and just _calm down._ Focus your mind and regather yourself before tomorrow. Who knows, maybe you'll find the key to your success once you've found time for clarity."

Muller pondered over his words as he also went about scratching his beard in contemplation. About then, a metaphorical lightbulb went off in his head. "I think I have an idea... thank you Vulkan. I really do appreciate your help."

"It's not a problem at all, my boy. I have a feeling you are destined for great things, but it does you no good to rush towards them with reckless abandon."

The two sat in silence for a few seconds before Jacob began to walk for the exit. "Well, I should probably get back to Beacon here, I know someone who can help me with this task if he's still up for it. Thanks again, Forgemaster." He turned around and began to walk towards the exit, but stopped just before he reached the door. "By the way, while I'm still here, I was thinking of having something engraved on my blade, and I was wondering if... maybe... you'd be willing to teach me one of these times?"

Vulkan's mirthy grin only widened. "Of course! That's an excellent idea, just let me know beforehand. Ozpin has my Scroll number, just ask him next time you see him for it. By the by, what _did_ you name your blade?"

"Oh, right, I decided to give her the name of a mighty... fortress of legend. A bastion against the demons of old as it were in the stories," he said with an intentionally grandiose inflection in his voice, so as to play up the grandeur of his tale. "They called it Cadia, and so too have I named this blade Cadia."

Vulkan's smile dipped ever slightly so, but Muller payed it no heed. "...Cadia, hmm? An interesting name. Sounds like a mighty bastion indeed..."

Some nagging part of Muller's mind was reading warning flags in his actions, but Jacob simply passed it off as nothing of importance. "Yeah. Well, take care of yourself, Vulkan. I'll see you 'round." And like that, he was out the door. The sun was still high in the sky, but since then some sparse clouds had begun to hang low in the sky overhead.

For the first time in ages, Muller felt like the sky may be just a little brighter a color today.

"...Caribbean, that's what Vulkan's accent is like."

* * *

"Okay, so a bullet train in Mistral leaves for the outer colonies at 4:00... going 70 miles an hour... Weiss, you gotten to that one yet?"

"I passed it about 10 minutes ago, Ruby. The answer is 4:00 the following morning, here's my work to prove it."

"Yang, I don't think that Professor Steele will appreciate us sharing like that."

"We're in a study hall, Pyrrha, it's kind of part of the idea. and besides, I showed all of my work so Ruby can see how it's done."

Beacon Academy's library was truly a gargantuan facility. Less a traditional library in size and more on par with a cathedral, there were books on practically every subject you could imagine for a burgeoning young Huntsman to read up on. A metric ton of books on Grimm studies, Several dozen on the history of the kingdoms of Remnant, even a few For Dummies-type books for those uninitiated in something or another.

Unfortunately for Ruby Rose, she was busy with the least fun subject on the roster of classes: Math.

Around her, the rest of Team RWBY and Team JNPR had combined their efforts for a study hall session and had for the most part gotten some decent headway into the subject at hand. Jaune and Pyrrha were collaborating together with Blake, while Yang, Nora, Ren, Weiss and Ruby herself had glomped together for the collective brainpower.

But Ruby's mind was elsewhere. With the approaching Vytal Festival, the buzz of excitement in the air was already beginning to manifest all over campus. Both teams had decided to compete once registration began, and they both had begun to look into practicing for the tournaments.

"I wonder if Jacob's gonna try and compete," Ruby said absentmindedly.

"He can't I'm afraid," Weiss replied, still looking at her textbook but visibly bristling, "He's a Lone Wolf student, he'd never even make it past the team rounds; Heck, I don't even think he's eligible."

"Weiss," Yang muttered, "You keep being a jerk about him and I'll laugh myself off the bleachers when he finally kicks your-"

"But he's not _in_ a team, is he? And besides, I'll stop being so critical of him when he finally impresses me... which I doubt will happen soon."

Yang and Ruby shared a look of disappointment in the Schnee heiress before Pyrrha piped up. "I'll have you know," she began with some mild irritation in her voice, "that he has been doing much better as of late in combat training."

That got Weiss' attention. "Since when have _you_ taken such a vested interest in him? I can understand Jaune, what with him being your team leader—" a sentiment that lit up a small smile on Jaune's face, Ruby noticed—"But Jacob? He's nothing! The most he's got going for him is that, surprisingly enough he's a decent shot with his pistols, but even then I've only ever seen him try one at a time. He wears no armor, he's not even remotely agile, he'd be better off as the meat shield than an actual Huntsman."

Pyrrha was about ready to give Weiss a piece of her mind judging by what Ruby could read. "Please don't argue," she whimpered as she covered her head with her textbook. _Why does Weiss have such a hatred for Jacob?_

Just then, a book slammed. Everyone turned to look at who did it.

Ren simply sat there, no difference in the expression on his face, no malice in his eyes, no change in his posture.

So how was it there seemed to be a horrifying chill down Ruby's spine?

"Weiss, I understand your concern," he began, no change to his calming voice, "and I know that you hold a grudge with him simply for having the stroke of good fortune that he had. But even then, consider this much. Wherever he's from, he..." Ren paused for a second, as though he were deep in thought. Out of the corner of Ruby's vision, Nora was giving her partner a concerned look, as though he was hurting himself in some way. It was enough to send another chill down her back before Ren continued. "...He lost everything by all indication from what he's told us. Friends, co-workers, family, his very home, all gone. Imagine for a brief second if you were to be separated from everything you cherished—even those things that you hated but were still part of your everyday routine—and thrust into a place without much help to get you into this new routine, and if you haven't noticed, as much as he clearly doesn't like it, he is a creature of habit; he thrives off of it more so than anyone of us would by comparison. Pyrrha and Jaune both have been willing to help train him, Ruby has been willing to call him a friend, yet he for the most part has been running himself ragged as of late. Whether some of his memories have spurned him on, perhaps it was observing our skills in combat, perhaps it was personal interior beratement or exterior beratement. Whatever it was, the least we can do is offer him a hand and help him. And that includes you, Weiss."

There was complete silence at the table. Though Ren had spoken as calmly as a summer breeze, for most it felt as though he had more than successfully buried some kind of seething rage. Nora was holding his hand defensively, while Pyrrha and Jaune had subconsciously leaned in on one another. Yang and Blake simply sat there, wide-eyed and lips sealed with shock, Weiss sat there slack-jawed and looking rather indignant, and Ruby...

Well, Ruby had been entranced by the whole exchange. Ren had more than just shut Weiss down, he had more or less silenced her with simple suggestions of cooperation and friendship instead of berating her.

Weiss simply sat there, as though there was a delay in processing everything Ren had just said.

"I hope you'll understand where I'm coming from, Weiss," Ren added with no change to his inflection. It was as though he couldn't even manifest a visual or audio queue of his annoyance and anger.

"Damn, Ren," came an all-too-familiar voice from around the bookcase. Jacob rounded the corner, wearing his grey shirt and tan pants but instead seemingly ditching his jacket most likely back in his dorm. "That takes some gumption sticking your neck out for me like that. I, Uh, I don't know what to say."

"Oh, Jacob, we didn't know you were here," Pyrrha said with a tone of surprise. Weiss had immediately gone back to her books, though she seemed to be far more... _coiled,_ if that made any sense to Ruby.

"Oh, yeah I was just coming up to you guys when I heard that book slam. I decided I'd duck outta sight and get a bearing on what's going on before I barge in like a drunk rhinoceros." That got a laugh out of a couple people around the table, mainly Yang, Jaune and Nora.

"Anyhow, what brings you here? I thought you were done with this assignment like 2 nights ago."

"Yeah, as much as I hate advanced mathematics, This stuff is kinda old news for me. Anyway, I actually wanted to come down and ask you guys something. Namely Team RWBY."

JNPR all turned to look at the 4 girls, each one holding some form of curiosity in their eyes.

"Sure," said Yang, "What's up?"

Jacob hesitated for a brief second before he began, scratching the back of his neck much like Ruby herself did at times. "Well... I've been really thinking as of late that as much as I've been training... it would probably serve well to see how much my training does against an actual opponent. I mean, I've mostly been going and training against dummies and fairly brainless Grimm for the most part... but I've yet to actually fight someone. Maybe I'll get my ass kicked, maybe I'll win, honestly I don't care at the moment. I at the very least just... kinda wanna set a baseline if anything."

Ruby had to admit, she kinda liked the idea. He had yet to go into the sparring ring with anyone, and though she knew that he and Jaune were being tutored by Pyrrha, but at least Jaune had his teammates to spar with formally. Jacob was only familiar with Jaune's style—or lack thereof—and that probably wouldn't help him in the long run.

"I think that's a great idea," Pyrrha said with a pleasant smile, brimming with mirth.

Yang turned to her little sister. "Well sis, what do you think? I'm not opposed to it in all honesty."

"Same," chimed Blake, leaning forward in her chair with her hands together. "It would be a good idea for both him and for us; Jacob's style for the most part has been one of pragmatism rather than our more... graceful styles. No offense." Jacob simply shrugged and held up his hands in agreement.

All eyes were now trained on Weiss. The platinum blonde heiress was desperately trying to ignore the lot of them, drowning them out in a sea of text.

Ruby felt awful about her partner's behavior. It was starting to get perhaps a might aggravating. "Weiss, please. Just give him a chance."

With a sudden _CLAP_ of her book, Weiss was up on her feet, staring daggers at their oldest companion.

 _Oh no,_ Ruby lamented mentally.

"Alright then, I'll give him a chance. I will be his first sparring opponent." She strode up to him, however only standing at 5'3" forced her to tilt her head up slightly to look him in the eyes. She was within inches of his face, enough that Jacob was actively recoiling slightly.

"Okay then Snow White," Jacob said with a nervous chuckle, "uh, wh-whenever you're up for it."

She pointed her index finger upwards into his chin, as if accusing him of something. "4:00 tomorrow, the auditorium."

Jacob started having that smile Ruby was too familiar with thanks to Yang; the smile that said he had a very bad joke he wanted to use.

"It's a date then," he said with a hesitant chuckle.

The room was dead silent.

Ruby looked to Weiss. She was looking about ready to pop a blood vessel in her temple. Without a word, she stormed off, head held high and chest adorably puffed outwards.

"...Hey, Ruby," Jacob spoke up after a few minutes, " I think I went too far. Could you talk with her and calm her down? I mean, since you are her partner and whatnot..."

Ruby sighed. _It's gonna be a long day tomorrow_ , she moaned in her mind. "I'd say just let her be for a bit, then I'll talk with her."

The lot of them stared off in the direction Weiss had gone off in. Silence claimed the room.

"Women," Nora said with a resigned shrug.

* * *

 **CLANG!**

 **...**

 **CLANG!**

 **...**

 **CLANG!**

 _...That boy..._

 **CLANG!**

 _...His weapons..._

 **CLANG!**

 _...His insignia..._

 **CLANG!**

The thunderous sound of metal shaping metal rang in his ears and shook his teeth. The searing heat of his forge cooked him from the outside in, but he did not yield to it. In all his years the heat had never bothered him, for it was part of him and he was part of it. Without it he could not forge his great works, and without him it could not boast to be the bearer of so many tools of war.

War... how that word was so bitter in his mouth now, when years ago he would have seen it no different from the rest of his vocabulary.

 **CLANG!**

But for the first time in many years, his mind was preoccupied with something else. Granted it did nothing to forsake his skill, but still...

He brought back the hammer for another swing.

But the swing never came.

 _...It can't be. I mean, it is possible, but still..._

He looked to the hammer he wielded. It was his pride and joy, the sire of a hundred guns, the father of a thousand swords. Firestorm was her name, and she had been built as both a weapon of war in the event his First Arm was destroyed, and as a tool of the forge as well.

 _But yet, what was it that I thought of when I forged that blade of his? of those who held the line, of course._

He set Firestorm down and dipped the _flamberge_ sword—now truly completed—into the oil to cool, flames dancing off the surface.

"It's time to make a call," he said to no one in particular.

He dimmed the forge's flame to a campfire, then to nearly a candlewick. He would never put out the flame wholly, for it was his last true reminder of home...

Where he was from.

What he had left.

He walked out to the lobby of his store, the cool night air chilling him ever so. He and the cold did not get along as much as he did with heat, sad to say.

He looked at the clock. 10:37. Store was closed anyhow, he might as well call now.

He strode past the armor that he had forged, a reminder of times long gone as well.

There on his desk was his Scroll. Picking it up, he began to dial the first person he knew he had to call.

The other end rang 3 times before he was answered.

"This had better be good, Vulkan," a gruff, accented voice answered.

"Good to hear from you too," Vulkan He'Stan sarcastically replied, his tone low and somber. "Listen, there's been someone here lately that I think you might want to see."

"Vulkan, you're calling Mira and I at 3:00 in the morning here in Anima. Whatever it is can wait 'til morning."

"...There's a boy here... and he's bearing the Aquila."

"...Vulkan, there are only so many symbols in the world, I would chalk it up to coincidence."

"Oh?" Vulkan said, "Put me on speakerphone."

A blip. "...Vulkan," yawned a female voice bearing the same accent as the male voice, "As much as we enjoy hearing from you, I don't think now is the best ti—"

"AS much as it was my choice to give it to him," Vulkan continued, "I gave the boy one our patterns. The chainsword pattern."

A pause. "...And?" the female voice inquired.

"He named her Cadia."

The silence on the other end lasted what felt like an eternity. "Of his own accord?"

"He bears a local accent, to be certain," Vulkan continued, "But the intent of the name was clear; he said it was named for, 'a great bastion against the demons of old'."

Silence again. "Give us two days to pack. I'll call Celina, see if she can watch Kaleb for us. Will you call the others?"

"Does a Wolf run with The Pack?" Vulkan chuckled.

"Knowing Logan, that's a solid yes. I guess Team VLAT's getting back together again." The man breathed a heavy sigh on the other end.

"It will be good to see you all again. I'll call up Gabriel next, see how he's been."

"Right, right... Well then... I guess we'll see you here in a few days."

"I'll set up reservations at one of the local hotels; I helped the owner with the creation of the sculpture out front and I have yet to cash in my favor for it yet."

"That's greatly appreciated Vulkan. Take care, see you in a few days."

"You too. Bye."

The Scroll clicked off, and Vulkan was alone with his thoughts again. He turned again, looking to a green flamethrower holstered into the wall. It was an underslung flamethrower, mounted to the arm and the firing mechanism was placed much like that on a minigun. Picking it up, he pressed the button along the top of the grip, away from the firing mechanism. In a flurry of green and gold and steel, it had transformed into a mighty spear, his dragon insignia roaring defiantly into the night.

"Safe travels, Titus."

* * *

 **Okay, so that ending _maaay_ be drifting into crossover territory now. Let me know what you think, whether I should keep my vanilla and chocolate separate or let them bleed together.**

 **Also, I have to go back and retcon some size measurements; turns out Ruby's actually 5'2" according the wiki and Weiss is 5'3".**

 **Anyway, besides that, this chapter took a while to write... and unfortunately I got canned from my job while I was writing this so it's been taking some extra time to do this all.**

 **Hopefully I'll be able to get these out more frequently in the future.**

 **So, Next chapter we get to see Weiss and Jacob go head-to-head; will he beat her, will she mop the floor with him? Tune in next time, same Batman—I mean RWBY time, same RWBY place!**

 **Reviews are welcomed openly, follows and Favorites are a sign that I should continue and as always I will see you... in the next chapter. Buh-Bye~!**

 **EDIT: changed Indrick to Gabriel... fans of Dawn of War may recognize that name.**


	13. Hit Me With Your Best Shot

**'Ere we go, 'ere we go, 'ere we go!**

 **Also, this will be even longer than usual... as in 11,000+ words.**

 **Take that as you will.**

* * *

 **Chapter 13: Hit Me With Your Best Shot**

 _"I love the kind of woman that can kick my ass." —Spike Spiegel, Cowboy Bebob: The Movie_

* * *

"...and with that said, I've got a sparring match with Weiss tomorrow at 4:00. Heh, when mother said I needed to see more girls, I don't think this was what she meant. But, anywho, sometime in the next... 19 hours, I need to come up with a strategy for fighting her... Who knows, maybe I may actually beat her in the fight; Won't that be awesome... Though I think she may hate my guts for it... hmm, what to do, what _to_ do, what to _do...'_ "

He flipped a coin. _Calling tails._

 **Plink!**

 _...Damn, heads._

He looked back to his phone, as usual planted on the ledge of the desk and propped up by his textbooks.

"Maybe I'll get some divine inspiration in my sleep or something. Heh, you know what's funny," he said to his nonexistent audience, "is just... how much has changed and yet... I feel as though so little has at the same time. I mean, almost... 2 months ago I was working my ass off for a paycheck, the sun beating me down a peg, the heat just, just slaughtering me more than it really should have... I had fun co-workers, I had a good boss... just, everything was starting down the normal path. I was gonna start classes up here pretty soon as well, work on my Associate's degree... Well, I guess Mom and Dad have all that spare cash for Luke's education, don't they?" He picked up his Bike Chaplain from the back of the desk, rolling him about in his hand. The golden crozius arcanum—basically a fancy, golden cudgel— gleamed in the light. "Hope Luke's been putting his Blood Angels to work... hope somebody's actually been taking him to our 40K meetups," he said distantly, lost in his own thoughts.

"And now... now I'm spending my days learning how to kill Beowolves, I'm socializing with kids that are at the youngest 3/4ths my age, at the most a year my junior. Heh, actually, come to think of it I'm kinda the senior on campus, even if I, y'know, suck. Funny. But anyway, I'm spending time reading up on the history of the kingdoms, _KINGDOMS_ —not nations like back on Earth—and one of my next-door neighbors is literally a biologically-existent catgirl! No joke, cat ears, love for fish and all!" He chuckled with glee, "You can't make this shit up! Hahahah... heh..."

Silence gripped the room.

"I miss home. I miss waking up to Chewie jumping up on the bed with me... I miss waking up and seeing the mountain, I miss going to work as stupid as that sounds, I miss my coworkers, and... I miss you guys. I miss my family."

A tear crawled its way out of the corner of his eye. He resisted the urge to cry then and there. He sat in silence again for what felt like an hour.

"But my task still lies before me, and as much as I want to blurt it out to them... I can't. They'd label me insane, I'd be locked away for the rest of my life or some shit like that. And nothing would stop Cinder from attacking...and killing..." Try as he could, he couldn't say it.

"Actually... trying to say what happens to Pyrrha, now that I... now that I actually kinda know her and she knows _me_... it's like... it's like I'm talking about her like she was terminally ill or something, and that just... just doesn't feel right." Silence again.

"I hope I get this right. 'Cause if I don't... If I fuck this up... I don't think I'll ever forgive myself. I will have failed Ren and Nora... I'll have failed Jaune..." his voice was cracking as he fought back the resurgence of tears. "I'll have failed Ruby... and I'll... *sniff* I-I'll have failed Pyrrha worst of all..." He paused as he held in the urge to cry, his head turned down towards the ground

It took 30 seconds of fighting before he was able to speak coherently again.

"But I refuse to fail now... I've quit before, I've struggled before, I've failed before, but if there is but one instance that I cannot afford to fail, then God grant me the strength to not fail just this _one time..._ But I refuse to give up and I refuse to fail." He looked back up, the sting of the tears subsiding.

"I swear Pyrrha will come away from The Battle of Beacon... at the absolute bare minimum alive and with every fiber of me hoping that at best she's untouched. And if I fail... I don't know what. But we'll see what happens, won't we? Anyways, once again the date of this log—Personal Log #52—is... Oh God, that's right, it's September 4th, 2017 Anno Domini, Terran Time, and it is Sunday, May 3rd, 80 A.G.W, Remnant Time, currently sitting at... 10:37 at night. Hope you guys sleep well... wherever you are. This is Jacob Muller... signing off."

Jacob tapped the stop button before rearranging his desk. "Gonna be a long fucking day tomorrow, won't it?"

It only took a few minutes after flopping into his bed before the abyss of slumber took hold of his consciousness.

* * *

The next morning Jacob awoke to the sound of a somber guitar solo; more specifically, Gustavo Santaolalla's theme for _The Last of Us_.

 _...Oh sonuvabitch, now I miss playing that game,_ Jacob lamented mentally as he began to awake. Cracking his left eye open, he could already tell that it was still early morning, just about 6:00 or so if the amount of sunlight peeking through the curtains were any indicator.

"...Won't do me any good to sleep in," he moaned before righting himself off the bed and onto his feet.

In the shower, he ran over his basic to-do list for the day before his... _rendezvous_ with Weiss.

 _Okay... so how do I compete with Weiss..._ he pondered over his predicament with all the finesse of a rampaging T. rex. His mind was already racing, even without his morning tea to caffeine-boost him into ludicrous speeds of thought, reanalyzing his memories of her fights throughout the show.

 _She's all about precision and speed, so she's no doubt already analyzed me as well. I'm way too slow to even keep up with her, and in my hands Cadia is imprecise at best unless I keep my distance and basically be they guy to bring a gun to a sword fight. Then again, she's basically the equivalent to a fantasy RPG's mage... What to do, what to do..._

He went back and forth with himself on methods of attack and patterns to engage in. Part of him wanted to rush her like a berserker, catch her off guard with a very straightforward attack, but that was dashed when he realized that she saw him as a brute. She would expect an attack like that.

as he stepped out of the shower, he looked up into the mirror; Compared to two months ago, he was already leagues ahead physically than he ever had been back on Earth. What fat he had come here with had been cut down by about half, and had in turn been replaced with new muscle. While he wasn't exactly able to heft much more than about 60 pounds in his arms at the moment without straining terribly, it was a lot better than he had been previously. Outside of that there was little change to his body, considering how his body received what was essentially a complete anime overhaul when he got here.

"...I could fight dirty," he muttered to himself as he stepped out of the restroom and back into his dorm. Though the clock said it was 6:47, the sunlight through his window shutters had mysteriously gone dim. _Must be overcast today,_ he concluded. Sure enough, he looked outside the window to see that a decent cloud cover had descended over Vale, looking to form into stormclouds if they amassed any more.

A relaxed smile crept across Muller's face; he loved rainy days. Back home they were a rarity outside of March and the July-August monsoons, so everyone in the city would be out in force when the rain came down. Muller moved back to pick up his phone and quickly shuffled through to his preferred playlist on days like this.

Soon, the sounds of an orchestral version of _Let the Rain Pour Down_ were registering in his ears.

"Trouble, troubles, fly away," he mumbled under his breath.

As the somber but lighthearted tune from Disneyland's Critter Country filled the air, his worries began to be buried as for a brief second as he took in the visage. "I wonder if there's a weather app on the Scrolls," Jacob said to himself as he picked up the fascinatingly advanced device: He had to admit, half the time he was nervous to work with it for fear he'd break the frame; then again, these things were toted around in man-to-Grimm battles, so it was probably a misguided concern at best. Regardless, he perused the Scroll, though he did struggle as usual with the holographic aspect of the Scroll.

"Jesus Christ, why couldn't they just make something like a damn smartphone—something that is for the most part friggin' solid," he cursed through his teeth.

Finally he managed to find a weather app on the thing; turns out the CCT also acted like a surprisingly primitive Internet, spared most of the horrors of image boards, discussion threads and—sadly enough—anything resembling Youtube. But sure enough, the weather app showed an overall overcast day with on-and-off rain throughout.

The smile on his face only grew in size.

"I think I may eat outside this morning," he said to no one in particular as he quickly holstered his phone in his hip case, and his pistols in his belt loops.

* * *

Ren had seen much in his young life; he had seen the horrors of the Grimm firsthand when they slaughtered his family and village at Kuroyuri, and countless times afterwards as an orphan. He had seen the cruelty of both humans and Faunus from the respective forces of the various criminals and gangs of the underbelly of society, and the very few White Fang he had encountered just before arriving at Beacon with Nora. He had seen how odd and varied the people of Remnant could be; He needed not to look farther than his own team and their sister team for just such an example of the good side of that coin, and the latter-mentioned groups to describe the bad side.

But Mr. Muller... he was something else.

Just by reading his eyes, Lie Ren had long known that there was a storm in that man's mind. Something was eating at him with the voraciousness of Nora on Pancake Day, and whatever it was he was keeping it a secret for only he himself to know. As much as Ren felt it was not his place to ask, he felt that he would be remiss to not offer him some solace. Even if he was not part of the team, Jacob was slowly becoming closer to the lot of them; Ruby was always happy to see him, Jaune and he were taking tutoring from Pyrrha each evening, Nora had become accustomed to giving him Ursa-hugs and receiving his closest attempt at one in return, and even Blake and he were slowly becoming more friendly with one another... though their interaction did seem to hide some form of tension between the two.

But that stunt Weiss pulled yesterday was... unprecedented. She had always held this underlying sense of aggression towards the older student, and Ren had slowly been deciphering her actions. As vocal as she was about the 9th companion of their little fellowship, it was actually fairly surprising to see her jump at the opportunity to test his mettle so quickly.

To Ren, it seemed as though she was trying to prove that she deserved to be here more so than Jacob did.

"Hey, has anyone seen Jacob?"

Jaune's question snapped Ren out of his meditation. Looking up at the clock, he saw that he had already gotten about a half hour out of his morning routine: it was already 7:10.

"I thought I heard him leave his dorm earlier," replied Nora, bouncing up and down on her bed without a care in the world; So basically Nora as usual.

"Any idea where he was headed?"

"I think he was headed down for breakfast," Pyrrha said to their leader as she stared out the window, watching what few students and teachers that were up and about

"Wait, seriously? But the rain's about to come right over top of the school."

There was a slight pause before Pyrrha spoke up. "By the looks of it," she said with a laugh wanting to escape beneath her sentence, "That doesn't seem to be a problem for him."

All of Team JNPR found themselves at the window, staring out to where Pyrrha was talking about. Sure enough, as the first drops of rain were beginning their descent to the ground below, Jacob had set up on a table _outside_ the mess hall, having commandeered a stand-alone umbrella to cover his table. Despite the considerable distance, Ren could tell in Jacob's body language that he seemed to be more relaxed than he ever had been previously.

"He's outta his mind," Nora deadpanned, staring through a pair of binoculars she had probably found somewhere obscure like she usually did.

"If the wind kicks up he's gonna be eating a soggy breakfast," Jaune added, swiping the binoculars out of Nora's hands to get a better look himself.

Ren however was more focused on his posture. While there was that sense of peace in Jacob's body language, there was also a slight tinge of loneliness, with his shoulders slouching ever so and his head downcast to his meal more often than up at the rest of his surroundings.

"He seems rather lonely," Ren commented to no one in particular.

"Eh... maybe," Jaune responded, still looking through the binoculars. "He's wearing a smile at the moment..."

Without warning, Pyrrha swiped the binoculars out of Jaune's hands with a cry of protest from their fearless leader. "Jaune, I have to be honest, that's a somber smile if I've ever seen one.." She quickly offered them to Ren, who took them without a second's hesitation.

Sure enough, the look on Jacob's face that he could see through the binoculars seemed to be that type of smile one may have when they are remembering good times with a long-gone friend or loved one.

Ren felt a tug on his heartstrings. It was all too familiar to the orphan...

He felt the familiar tiny hand of Nora on his shoulder. Leaving the view of his binoculars, Ren turned to find her looking at him with concern, and in turn the other two members of JNPR staring at them with a hint of confusion.

Ren let out a sigh he didn't even realize he was holding in. "I'm going to go join him."

"Wait, seriously?" Jaune replied incredulously.

"What's the matter," Nora called out as Ren began leaving with her in close pursuit, "afraid to get wet, Jauney-boy?"

The last thing they heard before Ren was out the front door was a quiet, "...This early in the morning, yeah I am."

By the time the two had made it out, the rain had only increased slightly in strength, not even enough to get them well and truly wet without them having to stand in it for a solid hour. By now the courtyard was well and wet, and no wind could be felt on the air yet. At about 20 feet out Ren could swear he heard the sounds of music coming from the table.

20 feet out, he could confirm it was music, however faint it was from his distance. It was audibly orchestral, and had a sense of whimsy to it. _Odd, considering his usual choice of music,_ Ren commented mentally.

"Whatever he's listening to," Nora said mirthfully, a bounce beginning to manifest in her step, "I need some of it right now."

At about 8 feet out, Jacob noticed them. They could hear him, singing faintly, "Zip-a-dee-do-dah, Zip-a-dee—" only to pause when he realized that he wasn't alone. His face registered surprise, then some delight at seeing them. "Hey, morning guys! I didn't expect that you guys would come out here in the middle of a rain shower."

"Actually," Nora responded over Ren's shoulder, "we were thinking the same about you; you kinda seem like like an indoorsy type."

"Normally, I am," he replied back with a grin, "but rain back home only tends to fall about 2-3 months out of the year, and the rest we are— _were,_ I mean...were—high and dry."

The way he said "were" in that sentence struck home with Ren with the force of a charging Boarbatusk. "You seem like you might need some company. Do you mind if we join you?" he asked.

Jacob seemed to take a few seconds to fully register the question before stuttering, "O-oh, uh, sure, sure, by all means."

Soon, the unlikely trio were sitting about as the rain continued to lightly descend onto the academy grounds. For the most part they stuck to talking about school work mostly in part to Jacob's maneuvers; anytime Ren got close to asking more personal questions, Jacob managed to slink his way out through some surprisingly silver-tongued comebacks and divergences in the subject.

Ren would have to try something a little more subtle if he was to actually get Muller to open up.

"Hey Jacob," Nora said as she stuffed her mouth with a plate of pancakes she had swiped from the cafeteria line, "I have to ask you..." She paused as she swallowed the contents of her mouth in her usual gigantic gulp. "...Sorry, too much in one go," she apologized to him, receiving only a response of an amused grin, "But anyway, I have to ask you: why did you come out in the rain this morning? I mean, like I said, I thought of you as more the indoors-sit-and-read-a-book type like Blake, but here you are outside in the rain, not that it matters with this umbrella over us, and I don't mean that in an insulting way I just was kinda—"

"Nora, Nora," Jacob chuckled, "ease up there, sweet stuff, you're gonna suffocate yourself. And to answer your question, well... how do I put it best..." He paused for a second or two before coming up with, "to be honest, besides the whole 2-3 months thing I mentioned, I've always kinda had an affinity for rain. Something about the sound and the smell and the humidity in the air just has always made me feel at home, ironically more so than the searing heat, high altitude and dry climate of actual... home."

The partners shared a look as it seemed that Nora had unexpectedly found an opening. Nora picked up on the pattern and began to visibly wrack her brain for something else to work off of.

"What about that music?"

Jacob seemed taken aback, as though he was not prepared for that question. "Oh, that, uh, it's a particular playlist I have for these kinds of days. Days like this remind me of this place my family and I would go and visit for a week on the coastline. Little bitty place, but so much fun. Had a ton of throwback stuff from way back in the town's history... there were plenty of places to explore, people to see—people to watch as well if you found a good park bench under a tree to sit on—and there was even this fun little place that was always bragging about a golden future lying ahead... I always kinda laughed at it in some way or another; in my youth it was because it all seemed so silly that it was genuinely funny, and I meant it in the nicest way a snot-nosed brat like I was could possibly mean it. But as I got older I started to laugh at it with a more cynical light. They never really took it down and it just kinda stayed there, even when those ideas of theirs were starting to sound more hair-brained with each passing year. I mean I can appreciate the optimism—God knows I could use some optimism right about now—but even then... after a point it felt like they were deluding themselves. After a while my cynical phase passed, and eventually I started admiring their commitment, even if it did feel misguided. But hey, if they wanted to stick to their guns... who was I to argue against them?"

Jacob returned to the last little bit of his plate—having consisted of 2 pancakes, cubed potatoes, some sausage links and scrambled eggs and now down to merely the potatoes—while his other two companions were still digesting everything he had said there. For Ren that included everything heard in his tone of voice and his actions during his monologue.

The biggest thing for Ren was that last bit about the mural. This was interesting to hear how Jacob ticked before he arrived at Beacon; for all intent as purposes Jacob had been thus far a fairly positive person, at least when he was around them in particular.

Was it all an act?

"But enough about that," Jacob said, cutting Ren's thought process off, "I need to focus on this moment now; particularly my match with Weiss this afternoon." He wrung his hands in contemplation, staring intently at the table as his mind was no doubt running scenarios. "I'm not lightning fast like her, I have the grace of a drunken Goliath, I can't wield Cadia's chain-form without getting it back in my face, the only option I've got is to try to outwit her... and even then I doubt I can do that."

"Oh please," Nora cried out, "you just have to figure out what's your great strength in a fight! Take me and Ren for example; I'm all about getting in the enemy's face and SMASHING IT WITH A HAMMER!" She sprung to her feet and hopped up onto the chair all in one motion, fist raised as high as she could under the umbrella's canopy and smile gleaming even in the cloud-covered sunlight. Ren couldn't help but smile in turn at her antics; It was that same mirth and joyousness that had kept the two of them afloat through their rough lives up to this point, and he was glad that the pressures of Beacon had yet to dampen her spirits. "And Ren, on the other hand, is all about taking an opening and always staying on the move; small-caliber, full-auto machine guns pistols? Ren doesn't exactly make the opening, he exploits them, but cracking them open, that's what I do." She finished with a brilliant, toothy smile as she grabbed Ren by the shoulder and brought him in for a one-armed, shoulder-to-shoulder hug.

"...I suppose you make _a_ point," Jacob said through an amused grin, "but that works for _two_ people. I'm the Lone Wolf here, I have no teammate to back me up. Regardless... the only thing I can think of perhaps is to rely on trickery and cunning, if I even have those qualities."

"Perhaps," Ren began to say after a few seconds of silent contemplation, "that may be the only way for you to win. Then again, you don't have to necessarily win."

That got Jacob's attention. He sat in silence for several minutes before a genuine smile spread across his face. "I suppose your right in a way... My old competitive side was starting to show up again I guess."

That got Ren's attention. "You were competitive?"

Jacob let slip a chuckle. "In my youth I had a really bad competitive streak that tended to act in tandem with the family habit of perfectionism. I get it from my mom's side of the family; If we aren't in control of a situation we tend to get neurotic. I've been working on suppressing the perfectionist in my head for _years_ now, and he still gets a jump on me every so often if I don't check myself." He had tapped his temple with his middle finger repeatedly as he explained to Ren, an unusual tick that Ren and the rest of their group had noticed anytime Jacob had talked about his mind.

 _Interesting,_ Ren mused mentally. "Well, if you ever need some help with that, I know some meditation techniques that may help you in the long run."

"Sounds great! Yeah, yeah, I'll let you know; but for now, I've got a fight ahead of me... and I just got a crazy idea." Picking up his plate and... proto-Scroll device as far as Ren could tell, Jacob began to walk out into the rain and towards the cafeteria, with Ren and Nora close on his six.

"What's the plan?" Nora asked Jacob, bouncing up to his left side.

"Well," he began, a grin crawling its way across his face, "I'm gonna need some Dust... particularly Ice and... either Fire or Lightning, I think. Nora, do you think—and I cannot believe these words are coming out of my mouth—Anyway, do you think you could crash-course me on how you go about making your grenades for Magnhild?"

Ren was quick to put the pieces together. _A bit dirty-handed, but I suppose it works in his favor. I hope..._

"Uh, sure, but, why do you ask?" Nora replied.

Muller only responded with an evil grin.

Finally, the lights clicked on in Nora's mind. Her face light up with an equally malicious grin.

"Ohhh... I like it."

* * *

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth she paced, her heels echoing about the hallway.

She looked up at the clock over the auditorium.

3:50.

"He'd better be on-time for this."

"Calm down Weiss," her partner cried out to her, "he's still got another 10 minutes to get here."

Weiss Schnee knew that while her partner was correct, but even still that was no excuse for her opponent to be late. Her father had always insisted that it was better to be early than on time.

"Even so, it makes a better impression to arrive early than to be late," she repeated the very words her father had told her years ago. As much as she hated the leash he held on her, the lessons he _had_ taught her had become well-ingrained in her own mind; be punctual, be courteous, et cetera, et cetera.

When she had first heard about the opportunity to come to Beacon rather than stay under the raptorial eye of her father at Atlas Academy, it had taken all of her willpower to not outright blurt out her desire to do just that. At first, her father had merely mentioned it in passing, more or less as a jest of the cruelest kind. It took 3 whole months of slowly, cautiously, strategically worming the possibility into her father's mind for him to actually humor the notion, and even by then she was training with Winter to prepare for when the opportunity presented itself. It then took another month for her to finally talk him into letting her apply, but only if she beat a Grimm in combat for her father to see.

Little had she known that her father had decided to send an Arma Gigas—a Geist breed of Grimm—against her, entombed in a massive suit of armor.

She was suddenly quite aware of an itch coming from the scar over her left eye. Despite her father insisting that she not keep the blemish over her "beautiful visage", Weiss had spent several days of concentration on actually _suppressing_ her Aura long enough for the wound to start scarring.

Was it her spurning her father? Was it her proving to herself that she could compete in the realm of the Huntsman? Honestly even she didn't really know.

And now, out of nowhere, on the first day of her new life as a Huntsman, this ruffian practically showed up out of nowhere. Everything about him spoke that he was a normal citizen, outside the unusual degree of marksmanship prowess, but he had his butt handed to him in those first few hours alone; he had the scars on his arm to prove it.

Ironic how they both shared scars of their trials to get there.

And yet, Weiss could not help but notice how easily Mr. Muller had been made a student, no less by the graces of the Headmaster himself. It took her so much effort to get here, so much maneuvering and scheming, and yet here was this... _scoundrel_ —she couldn't really call him a buffoon since he did have his moments of brilliance in the classrooms and he was generally of a higher-than-average intellect—that didn't seem to have struggled at all outside his hair-brained actions in the Emerald Forest.

And she was still waffling over how she felt about Mr. Muller catching her during Initiation.

Looking around the auditorium, a fairly-sized crowd had amassed amidst the bleachers. Rumor spread fast in Beacon's hallowed halls, and word that the Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company was scheduled to battle the resident Lone Wolf had traveled as far as even the highest level teams; She easily spotted Team CFVY amidst the crowd, a sizeable pack of groupies currently gawking over Ms. Adel. Even the braindead ruffians on Team CRDL had shown up, lingering in the back bleachers high above the rest of the student body; Word was that a betting pool had started up over who would win.

Not surprisingly, bets on her were holding the lead at a ratio of 2:5, if what Yang had said was true.

Surprisingly, however, she noticed both Professors Port and Oobleck watching over the crowd with a leisurely attitude. As much as it was probably against student-teacher conduct, Weiss was seriously wondering whether those two had joined in on the betting.

Outside, the rain had come again; it had been going on and off throughout the day, never reaching anything harder than a light shower but happening frequently enough that a few small puddles had been spotted along the way. The light pitter of the rain was soon joined by the sound of distant thunder echoing through the walls and into the structure itself. The storm was coming to a head.

 _How ironically thematic_ , Weiss grumbled internally.

"Oh, here he comes!"

Ruby's outburst was right; at 3 minutes to 4:00, Jacob rounded the corner of the doorway at a brisk walking speed. Outside of sporting his usual attire, jean jacket, cargo pants and all, He wore a weary yet excited face as he came in, only to suddenly sport a look of surprise as he looked up into the bleachers.

"Uh... hey, guys... Uhm, did we announce this fight on the PA system or something?"

Weiss immediately picked up on the nervousness in his voice; he must have been afraid of crowds, or at least uncomfortable around them.

"Well, word travels fast," Yang said to him as the two shared a handshake. "Heck, there's even a betting pool going on, but don't tell anyone."

"Really? Uh, in that case what are my odds?" Weiss heard him say. Yang gave him the numbers, and he simply shrugged and said, "Yeah, that sounds about right."

 _Alright, enough of the formalities, time to put this fellow in his place._ " _Ahem,_ if you don't mind, Mr. Muller," she called out to him in the most courteous way she could—and even then she had to admit what had come out of her mouth felt perhaps a bit too harsh— and continued, "As much as I appreciate the audience and the decorum and what not, you wouldn't mind getting ready now, would you?"

"Ah, right. To the stage!" he cried out, the nervousness from prior having been somewhat masked, though not entirely, much to Weiss' amusement. Either he was afraid of the crowds or afraid of her.

A part of her seeking domination of the situation was desperately hoping it to be the latter.

* * *

The two combatants took to the auditorium platform, and immediately the lights in the room dimmed. The crowd went silent as Jacob and Weiss' names came up on the overhead display, both of their Aura bars showing full and green. Weiss immediately spotted that in comparison, Jacob's Aura was nowhere near as strong as her's. He had yet to flex his Aura capacity, putting him at an even greater disadvantage than before. A clap of thunder echoed off in the distance, vaguely from the direction of Vale if her orientation was correct.

 _This is going to be a very easy fight._

Jacob drew both his pistols, and... rather strangely took a knee before crossing the metamorphosing pistol—Cadia was the name she remembered for it—horizontally across his torso, left to right, and then down from his forehead to his chest before quickly returning to his feet.

"...What was _that_ all about?" Weiss asked in baffled curiosity.

"Oh, it's something I picked up from my local church, a quick prayer to God before I begin, as it were."

Now that piqued her attention. _I don't recall that being a custom of any of the Kingdoms' major religions, monotheistic or otherwise. A local custom of the faith, perhaps, whatever his faith is._

"How funny," she began as the two found themselves circling one another, Weiss' hand subtly and slowly reaching for Myrtenaster, "I didn't take you for the type to attend church of any kind, really."

He responded with a smile and a matter-of-factly said, "Who says I do? I've always preferred to think that whoever's upstairs doesn't want us cooping ourselves in some building just to venerate them; needlessly superfluous and whatnot."

Weiss glowered at him, only for him to flash a grin back at her. Weiss felt her blood pressure begin to climb. The two stood 40 feet apart, a lot farther than they had initially been; Jacob must have been maneuvering to get some distance so he could snap off a few rounds at her. A futile gesture in a fight like this.

"Just fight already!" boomed the voice of Cardin Winchester from the back bleachers. Jacob's smile faltered as he looked up into the crowds.

 _...He's focusing on me to drown out the crowd,_ Weiss deduced rather quickly. "Well, let's give the people what they want," Weiss cried out, unsheathing Myrtenaster with a resounding ring and assuming her usual duling stance; left arm brought up and around her torso. The crowd erupted into cheers, an audible "Go Weiss!" resounding from her teammates and that blonde dolt Jaune, only for the rest of Team JNPR to reply with, "Go Jacob!"

And then Jacob, still desperately trying to drown out the roar of the crowd, bowed low and replied, "Ladies first."

Weiss felt a smug grin overtake her face. _As you wish._

Without warning to Jacob, she launched herself forward with the speed of a thundering train through the use of her Glyphs. Jacob had barely enough time to dive out of her path before she would have skewered him on her rapier blade. He rolled into a kneel before levelling both guns at her and unleashing his payload. However she was quick to dodge out of the way as her Aura's 6th sense capacity alerted her to the oncoming bullets.

Weiss caught out of the corner of her vision that the charges being used in his other weapon—Titan—were a bright yellow color, the telltale sign of Lightning Dust, whereas Cadia was unleashing simple Energy Dust charges. This was a bit unusual, as every time she had seen him down at the marksman range he was particularly fond of Fire Dust and the explosive capacity it had.

What was more concerning was the prospect of getting hit by one, as they appeared to be overcharged Lightning Dust rounds; one grazing her could stun her long enough for Jacob to empty an entire clip into her.

With a quick thrust and an activation of her Ice Dust, she sent a rather large wall of ice screaming back at Jacob at breakneck speeds. Sadly for him he was unable to roll out of the path of this one, as he took the hit face-first, sending him tumbling end over end. Jacob stopped after 4 rolls, now having been thrown back about 15 feet, looking for all the world like he had just been blind-sided by a charging Boarbatusk.

"Ow..." she heard him cry out. Looking up, she saw that he had already lost around a third of his Aura in that attack.

 _This will be too easy,_ she mused to herself with a pleased smile. "Ready to give up yet?" she cried out to him.

Jacob clamoured to his feet, still recovering from the impact but otherwise unharmed. "Are you kidding? The fight's just getting good! WAAAGH!" He suddenly charged her as he flicked Cadia into her sword mode, at the same time opening fire with Titan as he closed in.

 _There's the brute I know you are,_ Weiss said in her mind. All was going to plan; the crowd was cheering her mainly, though JNPR continued to cheer for Jacob, and currently Jacob was putty in her hands.

She moved forward to meet him in melee, weaving her way around his flurry of Dust charges, expecting to clash with Cadia's cutlass form. Much to her delight, she was correct; cutlass met rapier in a massive clang, timed perfectly as a thunderclap from outside resonated through the auditorium, adding to the impact of their clash.

Weiss almost automatically had the advantage over Jacob in melee. Where as he was slow and often opened himself up to quick strikes from her blade, she was fast and agile, ducking and weaving around his attacks with the poise and grace that only a Schnee could muster in combat.

Suddenly, he jumped back, having not yet even gotten a successful blow. He was panting and his brow was already starting to sweat. As much endurance as he had, it took a lot of energy to fight an opponent of a sentient variety; Weiss was stealing yet another advantage from him.

But just as she began to move forward to press the attack, she felt her left foot kick something. It knocked her out of her combat mentality and in turn rather annoyed her.

But as she looked down, she saw something that she did not expect.

A pair of Dust vials, tied together by masking tape and attached to a fuse. One vial held the distinct deep-blue of Water Dust, and the other the ever-popular red of Fire Dust.

Weiss had some familiarity with this kind of device. Her father and the rest of the family had received several in the past as "gifts" from the White Fang.

Jacob had brought an Improvised Explosive Device with him into the fight. And the charges were set for Water and Fire.

Water and Fire.

 _Oh no._

Weiss nearly screamed in anger— _How dare he bring one of those vile weapons to fight me!?_ —as she kicked the IED back at him. But the charge had been set for a short enough time that it exploded right in between them. Fortunately, it seemed that Jacob had designed it to explode harmlessly, as she felt no debris rip into her Aura.

But that didn't stop the fact that she couldn't see him.

She spent several seconds as the Water and Fire Dust mixed together to form a massive steam cloud of insane density.

 _No, no, no, no, no, no!_ "Get out and fight, coward!" She screamed at him. It was several seconds before she received a reply, just high enough for her to hear but no doubt too low for the crowds to hear.

"Oh please, you afraid of steam or something? You call yourself a Huntress? You oughta go back to your cushy throne by Daddy Schnee's side in Atlas!"

Weiss felt her blood boil. _WHAT DID HE JUST SAY!?_

Without a second glance and a second to think, she rushed into the steam, the rage in her system wanting to shish-kebab his heart out through his back. How dare he mock her!

Her blade found no purchase as she exited just out the other side of the steam cloud. Anger and confusion held steady as she looked about, trying to find him.

It was only by the grace of her Aura that she was able to detect at the last second the blade coming for the small of her back.

Weiss spun on her heels and was greeted by the gritted face of her opponent. Cadia had metamorphosed back into its pistol form, and now the chainblades were out on the bayonet, giving the weapon a terrifying and savage look in contrast to the surprising utilitarian elegance of its cutlass form. The two blades locked, Weiss' sword catching in the teeth of the chain, while Jacob caught Myrtenaster across the blade with an overhead swing. The two combatants desperately braced against their weapons, Weiss' Aura evening her strength out with Jacob's; while he was indeed physically stronger than her thanks to his larger build, his Aura was incredibly weak and untrained, providing him no amount of amplification to strength, speed or agility as was found with most Huntsmen. Weiss, on the other hand, had been training her Aura for years, strengthening it and reinforcing it, giving her a speed and strength boost necessary for this line of work.

The bladelock lasted for what felt like an eternity, Weiss holding Myrtenaster up by both grip and blade, Jacob pushing down with both hands on Cadia as the two attempted to strongarm their way out of it.

Suddenly, Weiss heard a roaring engine start up, and without warning she felt Myrtenaster being yanked out of her grip. Weiss realized that without thinking, she had placed her precious sword into Cadia's chain, allowing the teeth to hook onto the blade of Myrtenaster and pull her in closer.

By both the angle of Cadia's blade and the force of the revving teeth, Weiss was forced to take a knee, lest her only weapon be pulled from her grip. But suddenly she noticed that the tugging had stopped as Myrtenaster met with the input casing for the chain, stopping the spinning blades dead in their tracks. For a brief second she felt triumph as his bladed pistol was rendered toothless, at least for a brief second.

Only then did she note that the only way for her to get Myrtenaster out of the teeth would be to maneuver around him and pull the blade out.

But that was the least of her concerns when she realized that Cadia was still in its pistol form.

And she was staring right down the barrel.

With no time to move out of the way, her Aura could only scream at her as Jacob unloaded Cadia's full might directly into her face.

Fortunately, she had Aura, so this was not the act that would leave Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company dead in a pool of her own blood and brain matter on the floor of the Beacon Academy auditorium.

Unfortunately, Aura only stopped the the actual wound from occurring and only somewhat dulled the pain from the attack.

Weiss could only cry out and recoil back as eight 9mm Prometheus Dust Rounds—packing Energy Dust charges no less— slammed into the patch of Aura over her forehead. The resounding inertial force sent her flying backwards, Myrtenaster tumbling away and out of her hands. She was just barely able to roll into a bracing slide, her left foot kicked out behind her as she stopped her slide in its tracks. She shook her head in an attempt to dissipate the pounding headache she was now fighting and looked up at the screen.

That volley alone slaughtered an entire third of her Aura, leaving her at 66%.

Weiss felt her stomach drop out from underneath her. _A third in that volley alone!?_

A loud and frankly very bloodthirsty cry reached her ears. Jacob was charging again, Titan once again out and spitting Lightning Dust at her and Cadia having returned to its sword form, held behind Jacob as he rushed forward.

Weiss was able to roll out of the way before Jacob's sword came crashing down onto the tile where she had been but a second earlier. She dove for Myrtenaster, barely picking it up before Jacob had leapt at her, the chainsaw teeth popping out of the blade. She rolled out of the way with not a moment to spare as the revving blade collided with the floor, the spinning teeth sending sparks everywhere. Weiss rolled to her feet and launched herself forwards while activating the Fire Dust chamber in her sword, nailing Jacob in the chest and sending him flying backwards in a massive blast of fire and smoke.

He landed about 20 or 30 feet back, rolling sideways and coming to a stop on his side. She was only able to hear him groan in pain before the constant ruckus of the crowd over the course of the battle had turned to cheering for both of them.

"Come on Weiss, you've got this!" She heard Ruby cry out. _Well,_ _at least she's faithful to her team_ , Weiss thought with a smile.

"Jacob! Jacob! Jacob!" was the response from Team CFVY and JNPR, sans Jaune as usual, of course. That dolt was like a groupie sometimes, and it tended to annoy the daylights out of her.

In her brief moment of internal thought, she hadn't realized that Jacob was still struggling to get up, clutching his chest where Myrtenaster had made impact. For a brief second Weiss was afraid that she may have hit too hard, and that his Aura in its untempered state hadn't dulled the pain of the attack.

She looked up at the board again.

His Aura had plummeted to _less_ than a third, at 29%.

She looked back at him, only to find that he was standing again, looking rather shaky on his feet. But there was a fire in his eyes she could see even from here.

Jacob didn't want to quit.

And Weiss would be happy to oblige his request. She returned to her opening stance, planting herself so as to launch into a final strike.

He looked her in the eyes, icy blue meeting coffee brown for a few seconds. He flashed her a knowing grin and nodded his head. Slowly, clearly painfully, he picked up Cadia, before laying it to rest blade-up on his shoulder. It was at this moment that she realized that much like herself, Jacob was a southpaw, primarily swinging with his left hand this whole fight.

"Alright Ice Queen," he said, obviously tired from his fight with her, "let's end this." He raised his right hand and beckoned her forward in the classic "bring it on" stance she had seen in too many cheesy action movies to count.

"With pleasure!" She roared as she summoned up a Glyph, launching herself forward at ludicrous speeds.

Halfway across the floor, she saw his hand reach into his pants pocket. A flash of blue and red caught her eye.

 _Not this time,_ she mused mentally.

She stopped halfway across, prepping up a Wind charge to send the IED back at him. Much to her surprise, he lit the fuse and simply tossed it high into the air.

Her eye tracked the IED, expecting it to land on top of her and burst into another steam cloud, but even if she hadn't been watching it directly her Aura was alerting her to it.

About that time Weiss felt four more 9mms slam into her sternum, and she stumbled backwards. She realized too late that Jacob had used the IED as a distraction, allowing him time to snap off a few shots at her with both Cadia and Titan. Now she was pretty certain that her Aura had been alerting her to the bullets instead of the IED. Somewhere behind her, the Dust explosive detonated, sending up another steam cloud. She checked her Aura to see how much those shots had done.

20%. His shots had dropped her Aura by over 40%.

Weiss was about to cry out in protest before she realized that he must have done the _stupidest thing imaginable_ when working with either Lightning or Energy Dust.

He had overcharged the shots.

With Water, Air or even Fire Dust, overcharging was il-advised mainly due to the gradual damage it did to the weapon itself. With Lightning, Gravity and Energy Dust however, it was a _well-documented_ 1 in 6 chance that the weapon would either overheat or explode and leave the offending Huntsman weaponless in combat, or worse if his Aura was low enough. If he had been any less lucky, any one of those 4 shots could have blasted him to Kingdom Come.

She was absolutely admonished at either his bravery or his foolishness for such a risky move.

But that admonishment changed to surprise as Jacob closed the distance, coming at her with an overhead cleave that would have sliced her in half the long ways without her Aura or Myrtenaster to deflect it. She had finally started to pick up on his fighting technique; massive cleaving strikes, leaving himself open to other attacks. Without armor, he would be a sitting duck.

And fortunately for Weiss, her fencing was perfect for taking advantage of that.

The two began exchanging blows, neither one really taking the final "killing blow" but rather dancing over one another's attacks. He would swing, she would twirl around it, pirouetting with grace; She would jab and he would redirect the attack with Cadia's teeth, knocking it out of the way.

Behind her, the roar of excitement threatened to rip her focus away from the fight, as much as it did to him by what she could tell from his facial queues. Eyes wanting to dart, the focus leaving his gaze, et cetera, they were there, just as much as she no doubt thought was happening on her end too.

But all that changed with a balled fist.

Her Aura identified the attack, surprisingly separate from the alerts in her subconscious about Cadia or Titan. Her eye caught the offending hand reaching back to unholster Titan again, after the hand had just finished being used to brace his defense against another jab from Myrtenaster. Yet another dirty move.

Well as much as she hated to stoop to lows, if he wanted to fight dirty, two could play at that game.

Without warning, she brought down her heel onto Jacob's foot with an audible **THUNK!**

The look on his face, coupled with the massive howl he let out told her she must've landed dead center on a nerve. Outside, the thunder rolled overhead, drowning him out for a few seconds.

She then sidestepped him to his right, letting her counter against Cadia hold long enough for her to get into position before the roaring teeth could wipe out the last of her Aura. She had learned this move from her sister Winter during Winter's time as a cadet in the Atlesian Military.

Weiss practically brought him into a hug as she continued to execute her move. Being this close was usually not advisable, and considering the size advantage he had on her it could mean his victory. Not to mention she could practically hear his thundering heart beating in his chest. She felt her cheeks fluster ever so slightly.

But that possibility of defeat at his hands faded into nothingness as Weiss brought up her boot and kicked back hard into his calf. She heard his surprise as he began to tumble over onto his back. She released him as he hit the ground hard, backing away and charging up her Ice Dust.

Jacob was trying to recover from his tumble when he looked up and saw the fruits of her labour.

A massive hail of Ice Dust hung over his head, the sharpened icicles threatening to skewer him like a shish-kebab.

"Oh Christ on a bi—"

And that was the last thing out of his mouth before he received the full wrath of Weiss Schnee.

When the Dust settled, where Jacob had been lying on the ground was now a 2-foot tall pile of icicles. She looked up at his Aura bar.

9%.

His bar was red.

Silence clung to the air around the room.

And then half of the room erupted into cheers.

Weiss had won.

She felt a giddiness arise in her chest. She smiled as she relished her victory, soaking in the appraisal and cheering for her victory. Weiss took a bow, giggling at her victory.

About that time a pained groan came from the icy debris pile. "Mercy of God, that smarts like a motherfucker..."

JNPR was first on the auditorium floor, all four of them charging up to Jacob to pull him out of the ice. But by the time they reached the debris pile, the Dust ice had mostly dissipated, leaving a very bruised and battered—but still fully-intact—Jacob on the ground. Weiss spotted several bruises that were not there before her hailstorm; maybe she had taken it too far on that last one.

Pyrrha kneeled down by Jacob, asking him the usual questions asked when someone received head trauma to make certain they're alright. Granted with that pelting he received at the end, Pyrrha had every right to be concerned.

"Pyrrha, Pyrrha, _relax_ ," Jacob groaned out, "I'll be fine, just— _er_ _gh!_ —give me a second to get up and I'll walk it off."

"Considering those bruises, you are _not_ fine," Pyrrha replied back with a worried tone. She and Ren hoisted him onto his feet, allowing Weiss a good view of how much she did to him.

Well, good news was that he wasn't very worse for wear. He was definitely sporting some bruises along his arms and legs, and he probably had some along his torso. Surprisingly, there were no bruises to report on his face—

And then she noticed the smile on his face. He chortled heartily and jovially wheezed "I suppose I should congratulate you, Weiss, for doing a hella job kicking my ass."

Weiss couldn't respond. She had just beat him in a dual—a dual that she had incited against him in anger at the conditions of his arrival—and yet here he was smiling and laughing at his defeat.

Oh, wait, there was one thing that she did want to respond with. "As much as I want to say that it was a good match," she began admittedly rather coarsely, "your antics with those IEDs were uncalled for and a cheap gimmick to get an edge over me. In a fair fight, I would have mopped the floor with you."

His smile only widened. "Then that's not good incentive for me to fight fair, is it? Regardless," he continued, offering his hand in a friendly handshake, "even with those cheap attacks on my part you still kicked my ass. Again, well done."

She only hesitated for a brief second before deciding to return the gesture. But where she was expecting his grip to be tight and strong, he gripped her hand gingerly, as if she were made of fine china to him. For a brief second part of her was expecting him to kiss her hand like they were at an Atlesian function for the local nobles.

About that time she remembered just how far away from her Father she was... and by extension those gods-awful functions. The giddiness from her victory only increased.

There was a pregnant pause as the two simply stood there for a second before Jacob shook her hand, the smile never leaving his face.

With all the giddiness in her system from the victory, Weiss couldn't help but return the smile.

* * *

"Guys, guys, I'm _fine,_ really. They're just cosmetic bruises for the most part, they don't even hurt that much anymore."

"Oh really? Boop!"

"AAH! Motherf—that one _does_ hurt Nora!"

"oh, quit crying you big baby and put this on it. By the way, I had no idea you had this much hair on your chest."

"Dad's side of the family came by it honestly, I just picked up the right genes."

Jacob felt a chilling bite embrace the left side of his ribcage under his arm as Nora placed an icepack on the offending rib. "As much as I usually prefer cold," he replied with a hiss, "this smarts like a motherfucker."

"Language," Pyrrha reminded him dangerously. He simply waved it off, currently too tired and it just a bit too much pain to argue with her.

"With most Huntsmen, this would would already have healed by now. Have you been training your Aura at all?" Nora asked as she held the icepack up.

"...Maybe," he replied hesitantly. He looked around at the gathered group, all of them training their eyes on him directly. Sitting directly to his left on the other couch was Pyrrha, hands held together as she sat straight-backed against the surprisingly plush furniture and watched him intently. Next to her sat Jaune, looking to all the world embarrassed—no doubt over his rooting for Weiss during the whole fight—as he looked down at his shoes. Nora and Ren had taken a seat on the other couch next to him as he sat in the conjoined corner-seat between the two couches. Across the way sat Blake and Yang, having both commandeered wooden chairs from around the room.

They were currently sitting in the 1st floor lobby of the dormitories—a room that Jacob had been surprised at it's existence when he first arrived since it wasn't exactly shown in the show—and had easily snagged the couches and coffee table sitting off to the side. It was fairly-well lit at the moment, as night had begun to creep up from the eastern sky like a stalking carnivore. Currently it was sitting at about 7:30-ish, as they had all elected to get dinner and then head back to the dorms for the evening. Around the lobby were various decorations, mainly some Impressionist-type paintings and a few potted flowers, as well as a fairly lively coat of paint of the same tone as Citadel's Zandri Dust along the walls.

"You know that as a Huntsman you should be training your Aura as well," Nora replied, pressing the icepack again into his ribs; his body responded with a sharp shooting pain up his side and into his arm. He hissed sharply as the pain cut its path through his body.

"Nora, I think you're adding too much pressure," Ren commented, pointing to the wound as it seemed to redden under her touch with the blood in his system rising to the surface. The bubbly ginger took a second to register what he was saying before she figured out what he meant. With a quick "oh," she eased up somewhat, allowing the cold to remain and the pain to ease up somewhat in turn.

"I still can't believe you lost the fight," Blake added as she sat there with her legs crossed and her hands knit together, "you had the element of surprise and everything."

"I think I sprung it too early," Jacob commented on himself, the disappointment in himself even audible to his own ears. "I should have waited until later, caught her off guard when we were both more tired or something."

"I thought you would fight on even ground," Yang commented with a disappointed frown. "That was dirty fighting and you know it."

That cut Jacob deep; as much as he tried to be his own person, at times the disapproval of others had a disheartening effect on him. Now he was starting to wonder if it was even remotely a good idea to even try that again.

"Uh, Yang, I don't mean to contradict you entirely," Nora replied, "but you _are_ aware how behind Jacob is compared to most of us—besides... well, you know—right?"

Jaune whimpered in response to that comment as Pyrrha gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Admittedly, it was rather... distasteful for myself," she continued, "but it is understandable from a pragmatic sense. Until Jacob can reach our level of combat skills, the only way he really could compete with us is through improvisation."

Jaune looked up from his dejected state. "Yeah, to be honest that all kinda left a bad taste in my mouth, but it did kinda make sense from a strategy standpoint. If you can't fight hard, fight smart, right?"

"That doesn't excuse him substituting his actual fighting skills with cheap tricks," Yang replied.

"Yang—" Blake's attempt at calming her partner was cut short as they heard the sound of stiletto heels in the hallway.

Out of the hallway leading to the elevators and the stairwell came Weiss, still dressed in her casual garb, looking at a distance like she was concerned.

The room became deadly silent, and stayed that way for what felt like minutes on end.

 _...Yang's right, I should apologize,_ Jacob decided in the back of his mind. His ribs—and Nora and Ren—protested against such action, but regardless Jacob got back on his feet, the ache in his left heel telling him he needed to watch that heel for the next few days. Grabbing his shirt and putting back on, he walked up to Weiss slowly as his whole body protested.

The two locked eyes as they stood apart be several feet. At first, Jacob couldn't read Weiss' expression as well as he thought, the concerned look in her eyes now seeming more judgemental up close and personal, and even then it was a stretch.

And then the silence was broken.

"I wanted to apologize—"

"I wanted to apologize—"

The two of them stopped their sentences in their tracks. "Please, ladies first," Jacob insisted.

"Oh," she replied, "Well then... I, uh... I just wanted to apologize for that last attack, it was a bit rougher than I was originally intending. Are you alright?"

"Me? Heh, you think this is bad," he laughed benevolently, "you should have seen what I looked like after my first encounter with a pit bull. Friendly dog and all, but I had enough claw marks and bruises from encounters with his head to look like I had been mauled by an Ursa." He had to catch himself on that last part as he had intended to say "a bear", though he had no clue if regular bears existed on Remnant. "But yeah, yeah I'm alright. I'll heal in time for my next asskicking," he joked.

"Well... that's good to hear...?" She was obviously unsure how to take his self-decrepitating humor, so he simply waved his hand to let her know to just forget about it.

"Well, anyways, my turn I guess. I actually wanted to apologize for... for those dirty tricks I did out there on the ring. The IEDs were a last-minute thing I came up with and I thought it would give me an upper-hand. But that takedown you did, I gotta ask, where did you learn that? I've seen that before with my local militar—militia, and I was hardly expecting the Heiress of the Schnee Dust Company to know a CQC takedown like that."

"Oh, that? Well," she replied with a bemused look on her face and a hint of blush on her cheeks, "when you're sister is a member of the Atlesian military, you tend to learn a few things."

 _So she learned it from Winter... Not to self: don't get in a scrap with Winter or I'll be sent home in a soup can,_ he thought to himself.

"But to be honest," Weiss continued, "Those were pretty clever. I didn't imagine you would set traps like that on the fly so much. Although you did kind of goad me on at one point, that was uncalled for."

He chuckled mostly to himself on that one. "Didn't imagine that would piss you off like it did, so my bad as well. But now thinking about it, if half the stories I've heard about Jacques Schnee are true, I'd be furious at him too."

Weiss' eyes brightened a bit at that remark. "Oh? And what _have_ you heard?"

Time to put the knowledge of Volume 4 to work. "Overbearing, a control freak, more focused on profits than public opinion—which is much better for a company's lifespan than a focus on profits in my honest opinion—basically he's the kind of guy that you have the overpowering urge to introduce to your kneecap. Uh, no offense."

To his relief, Weiss giggled at his assessment of her father instead of slapping him. "Well, that isn't far off," she commented.

"...So then...we even," he offered her in an attempt at recompense, "Or do you want another match on more equal ground?"

At first, she seemed to be surprised by his offer. By all accounts, Weiss was fairly sportsmanlike both in the show and now in his firsthand experience. She seemed to hum and haw over the prospect for around a minute, no doubt walking through the options in her mind. Finally, after about a minute of thinking, she told him.

"Tell you what, if you don't whip out those IEDs during future spars, I'll be more than willing to call us even."

As much as he hated having to sideline his new toys... it was probably for the best to not bring them out until The Breach at the very least. "...Deal."

The two shared a genuine smile. "I admit your fighting style, while lacking finesse, has some merits considering your weapon of choice," Weiss admitted. "There were a couple instances where... to be honest, the engine in Cadia kind of, well, scared the daylights out of me."

That was new to him, but not unanticipated; hearing a roaring chainsaw coming at you would scare him out of his pants on any normal day. "Really? Funny thing you would mention that, 'cause I was thinking about it and you only used Glyphs a handful times during the fight, but every time you did you about had my heart thundering into my throat. Like, Christ Alive, you looked like a white lightning bolt from where I was standing half the time."

It may have been over-exaggeration on his part, but he did manage to get a bemused giggle out of her. Somewhere over his shoulder he heard Jaune whimper and Yang hum.

"Well," he said, taking a step back, "I don't want to keep you from anything else you need—or want—to do, so...uh... I'll see you later?"

Weiss smiled brightly and. Jacob hadn't really thought about it before, but there was a likeability to Weiss at times throughout those first 4 seasons. Granted, they became far more common after Volume 2, but there were some moments during 1 and 2. "See you tomorrow, as a matter of fact," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh, right," he remembered, "Professor Oobleck's class. Brain's not running on all four cylinders at the moment. But, yeah, I'll uh... I'll see you then."

They held on each other before Weiss finally turned around and began her trek back to her dorm.

And as he began to walk back to the couch to continue to patch himself up, he found himself humming a familiar tune.

"It's the truth, it's actual, everything is satisfactual...~"

* * *

 **TA-DA! *Falls over exhausted***

 **I went through 3 different versions of this before I finally settled on this, and even then I think I could do better on this. Regardless, this was actually kinda fun to write... in a sado-masochistic way.**

 **Also, the usage of music from Splash Mountain is intentional; I usually will eat breakfast out on the patio with it playing. Call it my happy place, as it were.**

 **Next chapter, The Monkey King and a puppet with no strings come to town, and the kitty finally lets loose the ears. Oh, and another 40Kharacter arrive too.**

 **Review, follow, favorite this fic, all that good stuff; I really appreciate it. So anyway, than you all for reading and I will see you... in the next chapter. Buh-bye~!**

 **EDIT: Just watched Weiss' Volume 5 Character Short, I had to _at least_ mention it somewhere in here (Look in the bit about trying to convince her father to let her attend Beacon).**


	14. No Strings Attached

**And the plot is rolling onwards again, hurrah, hurrah~**

 **Also, I have yet to properly say anything to you guys; When I started this fic, I wasn't expecting it to get as many views or as much attention as it has gotten. Those of you who've stuck with this story thus far, I just want to say thank you for all the feedback and the commentary and just in general the attention you've given this story. It means a lot to me, truly.**

 **Now... on with the show.**

* * *

 **Chapter 14: No Strings Attached**

 _"Unexpected friendships are the best ones." —Unknown_

* * *

Jacob was not in a pleasant mood. At all.

Out of all the things he was not prepared for, this he realized was high on the priority list to deal with.

 _Seriously!? They're actually starting this early,_ he screamed mentally as he looked about the campus.

Already the telltale signs were going up; Streamers, banners, promotional posters, the whole nine yards. The school was in an insanely happy mood, yet here he was with his stomach about ready to procure an ulcer.

 _Oh God, please tell me my deadline isn't shortened!_

A thick Australian accent snapped him out of his terrified trance. "Hey, Mr. Muller, are you alright?"

Muller about-faced and came face-to-face with the speaker. Long brown hair, similar coffee brown eyes as himself, about his same height... and bunny ears.

"Oh! Uhm, hey Velvet," he said with a start, as his stomach manifested yet another pit, "I just, uh, I was just thinking ahead towards the... you know." He really couldn't bring himself to say it, all things considered, as it was forcing his stomach to eat away at itself and his mind to start going ballistic. Instead he simply gestured around at the various decorations.

It had been only 4 days since he had been on the receiving end of Weiss Schnee's frosty fury, and he had been on the mend fairly quickly in comparison to back on Earth. While he did end up going to the infirmary the next morning for some basic painkillers, most of the bruises and nicks from the Hailstrike—a name both he and Yang had come up with that same morning over breakfast—had been healed and were mainly just sore now, though far less so than in the immediate aftermath. It turned out that the nurse had located a bruise on his rib, but unlike back home where he would have probably have been out of commission for 3 to 4 weeks, here he was only out for a day or two. A day or two!? If he ever found a way back home, the medical academia of Earth would either scoff or unhinge their jaws at the socket with that little tidbit of info at their disposal.

So this was what it was like to essentially have superhuman healing. Huh.

Regardless of that, he hadn't expected things to go so well as they did afterwards. Now with her victory at her disposal, Jacob had expected Weiss to lord over him with it as a badge of superiority. Instead, after she had eventually calmed down from her victory high, she resumed her regular nonchalant demeanour in regards to him and continued as normal, only this time around she was far from as hostile. If anything, she wasn't even dismissive of him, though she wasn't exactly beaming brightly every time they bumped into one another. Rather, to put it in political terms, she was neutral to him, like Switzerland would be neutral to the planet blowing up under its feet or anything else really.

"Why? Most people are absolutely ecstatic," Velvet pointed out to him, "yet you're walking around looking like you're expecting an attack."

 _...You're not far off, Ms. Velveteen Rabbit,_ Jacob rattled off in his head as he continued to observe the decorating process.

"Sorry, sorry, it's some of that... _unfamiliarity_ that's kinda throwing me for a loop again," he partially fibbed, "just like when I first got here. A lot of new people, for however short a time it is, new competitors to spar with, yada-yada, it's uh... it's never been my comfort zone." That last bit was far from a fib; A lot of new faces, events and such in a short amount of time was particularly exhausting for him mentally. Sure, most of the faces he'd be on the lookout for were familiar, but even then there were others that the show had never shown, so for all he knew things could get out of hand fairly quickly.

Part of him wanted to throw caution to the wind like there was no _mañana_ , simply spill the beans and let them all know what is "destined" to happen. But the truth of the matter was that doing such would only do three things: One, get him marked as a lunatic by the student body if he couldn't back his claims; Two, if they did believe him it would throw Cinder's plan out the window and risk Cinder and Salem going for a more aggressive stratagem; and Three, it would paint a humongous red target on himself directly, something he knew he wouldn't survive when considering who basically amounts to his opponents here.

 _I need to calm down,_ he began to say to himself mentally, _just get some distance from it and just relax. Get my bearings and re-focus before I lose my head..._

In the back of his mind he began to think of options; Staying around the school itself wasn't going to help, so perhaps going into Vale itself would do him a favor.

About that time he remembered that gift he received from Professor Oobleck in the aftermath of the fight with Weiss...

 _..._

 _"Are you sure Professor? I mean, I appreciate the gesture, but I don't want to take what you earned_ —"

 _"Oh, it's quite alright, Mr. Muller," Oobleck replied with a dismissive wave, "By all account Port and I squirrel away some spare Lien every year for just such occasions as these, I hardly need that much anyhow."_

 _"Yeah but... 800 Lien!?"_

 _"Well in regards to what I've heard, you're skint-broke are you not?"_

 _"I mean, yeah, but—"_

 _"Then consider this a helping hand while you're here, Mr. Muller."_

 _"Uhh, wow, thank you Professor. I, uh, I'll find someway to pay you back, I promise; A Muller doesn't leave a debt unpaid..."_

...

Perhaps it was time to pay off his first debt.

"Hey, Velvet," he began to ask, holding up his leather wallet from back on Earth, "By chance, have you and the rest of CFVY had breakfast yet? My treat."

And out of the corner of his eye he spotted another banner being raised. He didn't need to see what it said to know what it said; after all, it was the reason he was having a panic attack this morning.

 **Welcome to The 40th Vytal Festival, Hosted by The City of Vale.**

* * *

"...And I respond to her comment—well and pissed off at the moment, mind you— "Hey, you keep touching my friend like that without his say-so and the surgeon who removes my size 9 shoe from your sphincter will be crowned King of Vale.""

The resounding laughter from the rest of the table told him he'd at least hit a funny bone or two. Fox and Yatsuhashi were both laughing hysterically, Coco was barely managing to stifle a laugh as she continued to work on her overly-expensive cup of cappuccino, and Velvet found herself giggling quietly as Jacob regaled them with his tale from back home, obviously edited to work for Remnant.

The five of them had staked out a restaurant deep in Vale's Wharf District, just on the opposite side of the Commercial District from Beacon and not far from the docks themselves where the contestants for the Vytal Festival were arriving from the other nations of Remnant. While it was somewhat upscale in regards to a local cafe, The Harbor and Hearth—as he learned its name was—had a relative coziness to it that did help to set Jacob's mind at ease. The team and their host had decided on an outside table on the second floor, giving them a good view of the ships coming in from across the sea.

It was only when they arrived on the upstairs patio that Jacob realized this would be the very restaurant that Sun and Blake would sit and chat at during the opening scene of _Black and White_.

"And it's hilarious, because she's about ready to tell me off and then she notices that there's about a quarter of the staff nearby and I myself have a camera holstered on my backpack's shoulder strap."

"Oh my gods!" Velvet cried out as the floodgates burst and she found herself in an uncontrollable fit of giggles, soon joined by the normally-silent Yatsuhashi as he began another bout of hysterics. Jacob couldn't help but join in as well, chuckling along with them. The lot of them had mostly-finished their meals—though he had not expected Velvet of all people to have such a voracious appetite for someone as petite as her—and were simply sitting around, talking and regaling one another about their studies and their hobbies.

Coco apparently had started her fashionista ways at an early age thanks to her family's ties in the upper echelons of Valean society, and it was there she had intended to stay... but why she chose the path of the Huntress she didn't seem to want to say. Yatsuhashi was originally a farmer's son from Mistral, but that was about as much as he was willing to divulge outside of apparently being into calligraphy of all things, even demonstrating on a piece of paper with a pen he had on hand. Fox said nothing of his hobbies or his past, but Jacob had a feeling he was much like Ren in the sense that he was all about meditating; he seemed the type.

Velvet on the other hand seemed very quiet throughout the previous conversations, only divulging her photography affinity as was already privy to Muller. He remembered _Heroes and Monsters_ well, including the kickass fight with the Atlesian Paladin, and her photographs were key to her superpowered weapon. But in regards to knowing her personally, well, she wasn't exactly opening up to him.

After about a minute the laughter had settled down, as their waiter rounded the doorframe and handed them their bill. "Thank you again for offering to take us out for breakfast," Velvet commented as her giggles began to subside. "I would have suspected that you'd have offered to take RWBY and JNPR out instead, but I have to wonder, why us?"

"Well, consider this a step towards repaying you guys for bailing me out of that wardrobe disaster I was working on when I first got here." He chuckled as he received a wink from Coco from across the table. But about the time he returned his gaze to Velvet, he was suddenly reminded of the Cardin's harassment to her during _Jaunedice_.

Not to mention how he failed to stop it from happening in the first place.

To be honest, in the weeks after her teasing hit its crux during those few days of Jaune kicking ass, she was far more resigned and reclusive in public, only really talking with her teammates and the members of JNPR and RWBY. Ironically he had been left out of that bubble, so he really couldn't even apologize properly to her.

"Actually, he began rather somberly now, "I also wanted to apologize for a few weeks back when... well, when Cardin was being an ass to you."

Velvet's ears lost some of that adorable perkiness it had when she was laughing, a tiny tick he had noticed in passing.

"I mean," he continued, "I would have gotten my teeth kicked in anyhow, but... I felt like such a damned asshole not actually saying anything. I had the perfect tell-off for that brainless bozo too, but I... I hesitated, and in doing so I allowed him to keep doing that shit." While he couldn't tell her exactly why he hadn't been the one to tell off Cardin, he still felt like a shitty person for it nonetheless. "I'm sorry, Velvet. I'd understand if you had any reservations about me."

"No no no, Jacob, it's alright," Violet said in concern as she gently placed her hands over his. He knew it was meant to be a reassuring gesture, but he had to admit to himself that there was starting to be a buildup of heat in his cheeks. He could only pray to God that he wasn't blushing brightly at the moment. "Cardin is, like you said it, an arse. Even considering that, he hasn't tried anything else ever since Jaune one-upped him Forever Fall Forest."

"But yet," Jacob began in protest, "he was still allowed to—"

Coco raised a hand to silence him. "Ease up there, Wolf-boy, he didn't get away scot-free." A devious and smug grin found it's way across her face.

"...What did you do to him?" Jacob asked, smiling in bemusement himself as he figured out the basic premise she was getting at.

"Let's just say he found his morning milk laced with a little bit of my personal blend of Fire Dust, courtesy of Team CFVY."

Jacob let an amused howl of laughter slip, joined in turn by Coco herself.

"Oh my God, that's great! I can't imagine the level of heartburn the poor bastard was getting," Jacob squeaked through his laughter.

"Well, I think he and the rest of CRDL will think twice about touching our bunny from now on," Coco said affectionately as she wrapped an arm around Velvet's side and drew her in for a hug. Jacob had to resist the urge to laugh as Velvet squeaked in surprise and let a small blush tinge her cheeks, the two close to being within snuggling range.

"Coco, come on, we're in public," Velvet whined in embarrassment, but her team leader refused to acknowledge.

Jacob felt a tap on his shoulder, finding Yatsu to be the culprit. The massive Huntsman leaned in close, and whispered, "Believe it or not, for as lovey-dovey as Coco gets about Velvet, even we are still on the fence of whether or not they're an item."

"Really," Jacob asided with a mirthful grin, "the way she's acting right now, you'd swear they've been a couple for a while now." Yatsu simply shrugged. Jacob looked over to Fox only to find the Huntsman simply sipping on his glass of orange juice without a care in the world.

 _Good to note,_ Jacob mentally muttered, _Crosshares may very well be canonical._

As the two Huntresses continued their hug session, Jacob's eyes turned outwards to the rest of the Wharf District. From the balcony of the restaurant, one got a decent view of the piers down below, and farther outwards one could see the vast oceans of Remnant. It reminded him of this little town in Oregon he visited with his family years prior. _Cannon Beach, I think_ , he thought to himself, _had to be Cannon Beach, I went down and sat on the beach and watched the sunset by Haystack Rock with Mom and Luke._ As he relived that memory of a summer long ago, he found his thoughts returning to home, much to his chagrin; Unless something were to change his situation, he would never see that beautiful coastline again—

A mental slap spared him the hassle of having to explain why he was getting teary-eyed in front of his classmates. By the time he had returned to his senses, both ladies of Team CFVY had simmered down from their maybe-flirting. "Anyways, where were we?" asked Coco as she picked up and drank the last little bit of her espresso drink. "Oh yeah, don't beat yourself up about it too much Jacob, Cardin got what was coming to him in the end."

Jacob still felt awful about the whole ordeal though, despite her comforting words. They stuck out their neck for him, and thus far he felt as though he had yet to repay his debt to them.

 _Next time I see Cardin,_ Jacob decided after a minute of thought, _I'm challenging him to a duel._

"Uh, Jacob, you're kinda forgetting something..."

"...Oh, uh, sorry Velvet, you were saying something? Oh right, the bill!"

* * *

Five minutes later, they had returned to street level and had made their way over to the pier, where a vessel lay in anchor from its trip across the sea. It was a familiar sight, a cargo ship not unlike those one may see in the harbors of any major coastal American city, but it did bear the hallmarks of an existence in Remnant: Massive guns hiding in plain sight along the body for anti-Grimm purposes—such as that Sea Dragon Grimm from Volume 4 that Jacob had affectionately called Grimmron—subtle but still noticeable armor plating along the hull, gun ports here and there for personnel, the list went on and on. The form was relatively familiar, but there were enough changes to it that his mind automatically told him something was wrong. It was like the ship equivalent of the uncanny valley, and it made him feel uncomfortable as all Hell.

Apparently his discomfort was palpable to his cohorts. "Jacob, you're looking uncomfortable again," Velvet said as she came up to his right side, leaning on the railing.

"Oh, it's just," he began, "I was noticing all the tidbits about the vessel, gun ports and turrets and what not, and it was just kinda reminding me of what's out there... What kind of opponent we face in the long haul." Once again, there was a truth hidden in the lie; The Grimm legions were out there, thundering about with impassioned fury with intent to slaughter every man, woman and child on Remnant. No doubt someone out there was about to or was currently getting eaten by one of those shadow-monster fucks and yet here he was safe within the borders of Vale... safe, at least for now. He glanced aside to view the crowds coming to and fro the wharf; Almost every single one of these people would no doubt face the storm of battle in a few months time when Cinder made her attack, and even then before that when The Breach would happen.

Some of these faces amidst the crowd would not live past that night. He felt a sickening chill climb down his back.

"Well," Coco replied, leaning back against the rail on his left, "that's what we're here for, right? We send them scurrying back, we save the day, kick butt and take names. It's our lot in life, and it's the funnest lot in life I can think of."

He glanced over at her with a raised eyebrow. "Gee, when you phrase it like that, there's suddenly a sense of monotony about it when really there's none to be found." He ignored her indignant cry to continue to observe the crowds trickling out. "Hey, did that ship come in from Vacuo or from Mistral? I'm not familiar with maritime heraldry from the kingdoms."

"It's Vacuan," Yatsuhashi replied, "You can tell by the design; it's a retrofitted Atlesian Cargo Liner from the Great War. As usual Atlas hogs all the advanced tech and Vacuo is left the one scrounging for tech of their own." Sure enough, as Jacob looked it over it did seem to be an older model of ship, sporting some wear and tear underneath the armored plating. The aforementioned guns seemed to be of older make as well, looking akin to the turrets found on ships of World War 2 like the _Missouri_ and the _Oklahoma_. Really, now that he looked at it, the ship showed signs of antiquity and abuse that, while still showing character for the vessel, did make it seem as though it was cobbled together. Then again, from what her remembered of the _World of Remnant_ episode on Vacuo the poor bastards were kind of the 3rd world country of Remnant, so it did make sense in a depressing way.

"I'm gonna guess that's _not_ the ship carrying the student contestants," he asked hesitantly. He received a round of nods of agreement.

"That ship's coming in this afternoon," Velvet replied, also looking out to the anchored vessel.

"What about the Mistrali and Atlesian ships?"

"Uhm, if I recall, Atlas will come in by airship no doubt, but probably 2 weeks out from now, and then Mistral's ship comes in next week."

"Right, duly noted. Wait a minute, that means they're all here for..." He paused as he performed the mental math needed for his situation before concluding, "Almost _3 months_ before the tournament begins!?"

"Well sure," Fox replied for the first time that whole morning, "It _is_ a Festival dedicated to celebrating the common grounds of the 4 Kingdoms, right? The cultural similarities, the differences, tiny or great; you can't really do that in a week, so they have the students stay for a few months in the hosting Kingdom."

"...Oh," Was all Jacob could muster in response. _I'm just glad that outside of Cinder and the Fang, there's no one else with a more... aggressive culture to deal with,_ he sighed mentally, remembering the clusterfuck that was Europe just before he left. "So," he continued, "What do you guys wanna do now?"

"Actually, Yatsu and I were going to head back to the Commercial District and pop by my favorite store," Coco responded matter-of-factly, "and Fox was planning to head back to the Academy to practice a bit more."

"Hmm... what about you, Velvet?"

"Oh, me? I actually was planning to go with Coco, I've been meaning to look into some additional bits to my wardrobe. You're welcome to tag along, if you'd like."

"Well, I suppose... I mean fashion's not entirely my thing... but I've always been asked to be the critical eye by pretty much 90% of my family." He hummed and hawed as he thought over it before making his decision. "Tell you what, I appreciate the offer, but I don't wanna intrude on your plans for the day. Maybe some other time, I think I'll just stay and crowd-watch for a bit."

"Oh, well... I suppose," Velvet said with a hesitant tone, "I guess we'll see you back at the school?"

Jacob smirked ever so slightly, just to reassure her. "Yeah, I'll see you guys later."

Coco and Yatsu proceeded to offer him fistbumps—which he of course returned in earnest—Fox simply smiled and waved, and he and Velvet shared a simple handshake.

And as they turned and left, Jacob returned his attention back to the crowds...

* * *

4 hours passed, and he had taken to wandering about the Wharf District on his own, simply strolling about as the people from Vacuo continued to file in and take in the sights of Vale. He himself had scoped out a couple stores he would be interested in visiting later on: a leatherworking store, a couple Huntsman supply shops, even a fabric store where they would make whatever you wanted, for a price of course.

As nuts as it sounded, Muller had the craziest idea to have them replicate Old Glory so he could hang it up in his dorm. Granted, he'd have to do it another day, when he wouldn't have to explain the significance of the flag to begin with. Maybe one day he'd get a chance to tell them about home... when all the nuttiness calmed down.

Currently, he had sat his hindquarters down on a bench overlooking the pier. His watch told him it was currently 1:30-ish, and even if his watch had been lying to him, he could tell it was about noon by the sun beating down on his skull. Meanwhile, Jacob had been also thinking ahead, not just towards the Festival... but to the Battle.

His fears about the Vytal Festival had—at least on a short-term stance—been quelled; it was still about 3 months 'til the Battle, so he still had some time to actually form up a relatively decent strategy. Thus far he had come up with diddly-squat, with the concern of stopping Pyrrha or at least covering her 6:00 during her fight with Cinder being a monumental hurdle. He'd somehow have to convince her to let him come along for the fight, or he'd have to convince her to take the tactful approach and live to fight again. Granted, that would also mean that the Dragon would become a much bigger threat since Ruby couldn't be there to freeze the bastard beast with her 11th-hour power boost, aka the Silver Eyes. Anyway he sliced it there were too many hurdles to deal with on his own; but what could he do? He couldn't tell anyone, they'd think he was nuts. He couldn't pull the switcheroo on her and hold off Cinder long enough for Ruby to "Silver-up" as he had began calling it, mainly due to the fact that there was no way he could hold on against Cinder for very long... and there was also the problem in regards to how he would get up there when the elevator was the only route he knew up.

 _Oh, who am I kidding, there's no doubt a stairwell up,_ he mentally berated himself for having a stupid moment, _who'd be dumb enough to have an elevator and no stairwell in the event the former fails!?_

About that time he remembered whom he was talking about. _Probably has some B.S. reason,_ he sighed to himself.

As he continued to observe the throngs of tourists from Vacuo, he took in the myriad of shapes and sizes of humanity—and Faunus, he reminded himself, Faunus were a thing on Remnant, as infrequent as they were in Vale—that mulled their way about the shops and streets. It was rather odd in the back of his mind; He felt for all intents and purposes like he would have back on Earth when he traveled to anywhere like Los Angeles, with normal people going about their normal lives, and then that sense that he was back home would be shattered when he saw a guy with dog ears or a lady with a tiger's tail.

It was like the city version of the Uncanny Valley, at least in his opinion.

He turned his attention back towards the dock... and a particular individual caught his eye, in that same way a familiar face can be spotted amidst a crowd.

"...My apologies, beg your pardon, coming through—oops, sorry about that!"

There, amidst the crowd of individuals coming off the Vacuan vessel, he spotted a rather odd man, even by Remnant standards. He was a fairly large individual, standing probably about 6'5", give or take, and seemed to be of Caucasian complexion and sported a blonde buzzcut. He was clad in cream cargo pants, a red and cream-accented coat with black epaulettes, a white undershirt he could just spot beneath the chestplate and black, dusty combat boots, all of which looked to be fairly well-worn. His chest sported an obvious faux-gold chestplate between the coat and the undershirt that covered everything critical from the clavicle to the stomach, bearing some form of winged symbol on it, but whatever it was he couldn't recognize from the distance he was at thanks to the harsh late morning sun bouncing off the raised points. On his back appeared to be an insanely massive rucksack, packed to the brim with various gadgets and doo-dads. Even from over 100 feet out, Jacob spotted a rolled-up blanket along the side, various tools hanging out of side pockets, and the most interesting thing of all, his gigantic hammer. No joke, it was almost the size of Magnhild, but was by and large a great deal more boxy. On one of the faces of the hammer Jacob spotted that there seemed to be a pair of what looked like hollowed-out holes in the center parallel to one another, almost as if they were barrels to a gun; Perhaps it was a hammer that transformed into a bulky, double-barrel shotgun?

 _Somebody call Boomstick or_ _Sarge_ , Jacob laughed mentally, _I found another weapon for the both of them to drool over._

The man reached a spot about 30 feet away from Jacob, where he simply stood there, seemingly looking for someone or something. After a few seconds, he sat down on the bench directly behind him and shifted into a comfortable seat with his bag by the side of the bench.

Jacob tried to continue observing the crowds, but something kept telling him this man—whom he had never met before in his entire life—was familiar.

Normally, Jacob was good at recognizing faces; Hell, it wasn't even that difficult for him usually, but this time—perhaps because of the effect that everyone having an animesque form on Remnant—he couldn't quite put the pieces together.

 _Fuck it,_ Jacob thought to himself, _I'm gonna strike up a conversation. But let's play it casual, shall we._

His approach was slow, as close to the concept of methodical as he could. The man was seated on the bench, facing away from the pier as he whittled away. Jacob gradually wandered his way to the railing, about 4 or so feet behind the bench, and leaned in over the railing as he also continued to people-watch.

The silence—relative to being outside along a crowded street—was thick enough to slice with a knife.

"My boy, you're not a very stealthy spy, are you?"

The hairs on Jacob's back were like a forest of trees how stiff and on-end they were.

"Yes, I'm talking to you. The boy behind my bench, denim jacket, tan cargo pants?"

 _Oh come on! I was inconspicuous and everything!_

He turned around slowly, his back rigid in fear. He found the man staring back at him, though instead of wearing the expected angry frown, he instead wore a smug grin and a cocked eyebrow. "I must wonder though," the gentleman began, his voice deep and tinted with a hint of gravel to it and his accent vaguely British to Jacob's ears, "for whom would you be spying on me for?"

"Uhm, well, no one really," Jacob stumbled over a reply, "I, uh, you just remind me of someone, though who exactly I can't quite recall."

"Oh? How curious." the man's brow furrowed in thought before he gestured to Jacob and smiled. "Come, take a seat, there's enough room on this bench for two people."

"Oh, uhm, thanks." Jacob took the spot on the left hand side of the man.

They sat in silence for a few seconds; The tension in the air was thick as syrup. Jacob cleared his throat in an attempt to break the awkwardness. "So," he began hesitantly, "I'd presume you're a Huntsman, right?"

"Indeed," the man replied, "And I can assume from the guns holstered in your _belt,_ you are a Huntsman yourself; a Beacon student, am I to presume?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah I'm attending Beacon. I got a... bit of a late start on Huntsman training, but Ozpin threw this dog a bone, as it were." _Yeah,_ Jacob's mind retorted, _more like you blackmailed your way in. Seriously, it's a wonder Ozpin didn't outright kill you on the spot for threatening to let slip the truth._

"Ah, Professor Ozpin. Smart man, tends to see things in people even they do not see. Although he's always thinking like a chess-player, he's never really direct about his objective."

"You know the Professor?"

The man laughed heartily. "Indirectly only I'm afraid, one of my former teammates is a close compatriot of his. You know the local Forgemaster Mr. Vulkan—"

"He'Stan? Yeah," Jacob interrupted with a smile, "I know Mr. He'Stan. He's the guy I got this girl from," he said as he unholstered Cadia and held her up for the man to see.

The man stared at him for a few seconds with an analytical eye, reading Jacob like a hawk, contrary to the faint smile on his face. "...Very nice. Might I have a quick glance at the craftsmanship?" His conversational compatriot studied the blade after Jacob very hesitantly handed him Cadia. The man stood to his full height, just a few inches under Vulkan's height but still enough to be a rather imposing sight to the 5'5" shrimp of a man that Jacob was. He was quick to find the triggers for the metamorphosis, Cadia's sword form revealing itself. "Very nice, very nice indeed," he said to no one in particular, "Good to see Vulkan's skill has yet to dull with age."

About that time he found he found the button that released Cadia's teeth.

With an audibly sharp sound, the sword's chainsaw form made itself known. The man simply stared at it with a look of surprise on his lips and mirth in his eyes. Something about the image of a chainsword was resonating with him. "A chainsword," he asked Jacob with a chuckle, "My, my, that's a difficult weapon to truly wield. You must enjoy a melee scuffle something fierce to wield such a ferocious blade." The mirth remained in his eyes as he continued to study the blade, turning it over, revving the engine and letting the teeth spin their deadly dance.

Something in the back of Jacob's mind insisted that this guy was familiar somehow, but whatever it was wasn't striking a chord with Jacob.

Eventually the man handed him back the shapeshifting sword and Jacob returned it to its pistol form, holstering it in his belt again.

A laugh—hearty and boisterous—escaped the man's throat. "You should probably look into getting a holster for it," he chuckled, "if you intend on keeping it in its pistol form.

"Yeah, yeah, fair enough," Jacob joined in on the laughter, "I've got a scabbard for her sword mode, but I've been keeping that back in my dorm, mainly 'cause I prefer to quick draw and snap off a few shots before I have to engage in melee. And that's mainly because I, well, suck in melee at the moment."

"Oh, you'll get the hang of it, I don't doubt it," his compatriot replied, offering a kind smile.

"Thanks, I appreciate it," Jacob replied and reciprocated the smile. "Actually, there's a store not far from here that does leatherwork, I may drop by in a few to see if I can commission something."

For a few seconds there was silence as the two stood there. "Well then," Jacob continued, "I should probably leave you to your business, sir. My apologies if I distracted you."

"Oh no, it's quite alright," the man said with a dismissive wave, "I always welcome a conversation. Helps pass the time and you learn more about others. Besides, I imagine we may bump into one another again; Vulkan invited me to Vale to view the Vytal Festival this year, and Professor Ozpin has suggested that I perhaps apply some of my teachings as a senior Huntsman to your class' training."

"Oh, that's cool," Jacob replied matter-of-factly, "coupled with Pyrrha's training, no Grimm's gonna be impossible to kill."

"Pyrrha? As in Mistral tournament champion Pyrrha Nikos? How in the stars did you meet a girl like her?" The look on the stranger's face spoke degrees of both confusion and impressment.

"It's a long and complicated story," Jacob replied, "One that involves me waking up in the Emerald Forest and nearly getting eaten by an Ursa before she and her partner saved my ass." _And I'm still working on repaying that favor_ , he added in his mind.

"Well," said the man, "any complicated story is worth being told. Eventually, of course, I imagine you have your own plans. In any case, take care of yourself, Mister..."

"Muller," Jacob replied, "Jacob Muller." He offered the man a handshake.

The Vacuan man hesitated for a second, eyes washing over Jacob as if to study him. "Mr. Muller. Well then Jacob," he began as he returned the handshake, his grip as strong as Yang's if not stronger, "I hope I shall see you again."

"I hope I see you again too, sir."

"Please, please, call me Gabe."

There it was again in the back of Jacob's mind... only this time it rang clear as the peals of a church bell.

 _Red and black outfit... Gold armor... hammer... Gabe..._

 _"Knowledge is power."_

 _No. NO. It HAS to be a coincidence,_ he thought to himself.

"Right... I hope I see you again, Gabe."

Muller finished his handshake and began to walk away, allowing his face to mask his dawning horror long enough for him to turn around and begin to walk away. In his mind, his brain wheeled in fear and terror if what it meant that there were _two_ people bearing the marks of that world.

What next, an insane man clad in grey armor with psychic powers that called himself Kaldor Draigo?

* * *

After about 30 minutes of wandering down and halfway back up the pier, Jacob had for the most part buried his fears in the sweet sounds of RUSH's _The Garden_ on his phone; he had to remember to thank his dad for introducing him to their music, even if he couldn't say thanks to his dad directly at the moment. His mind had instead focused on simply relaxing and trying to enjoy his day. Sure, the nagging fear in the back of his mind remained there, but it was currently muffled and to be pulled out at a later time when he wasn't wound tight as a clock.

"The Vytal Festival! Oh, this is absolutely wonderful!"

Muller stopped in his tracks.

That was Weiss' voice.

Jacob's head was suddenly on a swivel as he looked about to find his near-albino opponent-slash-comrade. Sure enough just down the road Team RWBY were coming up to the pier, Weiss leading the way.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile this much, Weiss," Jacob heard Ruby say, "even considering your fight with Jacob. It's kinda weirding me out..."

"How could you not smile? A festival dedicated to the cultures of the world! There will be dances! Parades! A tournament! Oh, the amount of planning and organization that goes into this event is simply breathtaking!"

"Depends on your definition of 'breathtaking' there, Weiss," Jacob said as he walked up to them from the side. "Personally, presiding over the planning of something is duller than sin to _moi_."

"Jacob!" Yang cried excitedly, "Where were you this morning? We were hoping to catch you for breakfast."

The innuendo-savvy side of his mind kicked into action for the first time in several weeks. "Catch me for breakfast? Hopefully not for eating..." he said with a devious smile. _Wow, we're definitely feeling braver than usual today, aren't we?_

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you," Yang replied with a wicked smile all her own, closing the distance and poking him in the chest with her index finger. Three times before they had begun entendre-offs during these last few months, and each time had ended with her winning and the both of them on the floor laughing at their own wit, as well as Ruby and Blake turning red as Ruby's cape in response.

What could he say, he was a man of wordplay.

"But, not today cowboy," she said as she flicked her finger up and caught him on the end of his tiny nose, "I'm not feeling it right now thanks to being bored to death by Ice Queen here."

"Quiet, you!" Weiss immediately turned to Jacob after addressing her teammate. "Mr. Mull— Sorry, Jacob, Good to see you out and about." She extended her hand out, but instead of in a standard handshake gesture, her hand was level to the ground and bent down, as if she were showing him her nails after a manicure. The faintest smile could be spotted on her lips.

 _She's challenging me to kiss her hand,_ he deduced rather quickly, _seeing whether or not I have any upper-class habits or... refinements, I guess._

 _Alright, I'm being ballsy today, why not?_

He took her hand as gingerly as possible, her soft, porcelain skin meeting his callous-pocked, sun-tanned hands. He brought it up a few inches shy of his lips, taking a second to look up at her.

The look on her face said she had not been expecting him to actually go through with it, but at the same time she was impressed that he seemed to know what he was doing... even though he was running off what little he remembered in regards to hand-kisses by dignitaries.

 _Every once in awhile Wikipedia saves my ass,_ he joked mentally.

Either his heart was pounding or her's was judging by the pounding he felt in his hand; his ears confirmed it was at the very least his own pulse doing the hammering.

Quickly, ever so gently, he placed her hand to his mouth and he planted a small kiss dead center on the top of her hand. He felt a terrible heat rise to his cheeks; from the outside it would look as if they were an item, even if Weiss would probably rather jump into a Ursa's maw than be part of something like _that._

Weiss held a triumphant and pleased smile as Jacob essentially was at her mercy in that moment... but it didn't escape his notice that she was sharing in the blushing as well, though her's seemed to be far more in-control than the bright red blush he was pretty certain he had at the moment.

"Nice to see you too, Weiss," he said as he let go of her hand and quickly backed a few inches away. The whole motion had lasted less than 10 seconds, despite it feeling like it took forever in the back of his mind. "I trust you girls have been having a pleasant morning?"

"Fairly," Weiss said, regaining composure pretty quickly. "It's been rather hum-drum up until now," she said with a giggle.

"Glad to see I'm of some amusement," Jacob deadpanned as his blush came down.

"If what we heard from Team CFVY is any indication, you were having an interesting morning yourself," Blake commented from the flank of the group.

"Ah 'tis but the first step on the road to repaying them for their kindness. I actually decided to stay here afterwards mainly to see the throngs of tourists as they march their way into town," he said with a dramatic flair as he gestured back to the docking ships.

 _And in that one back behind us,_ a part of Jacob's mind focused on canon said, _Sun Wukong is about to humiliate the local PD_ _and successfully stowaway._

"Remind me again why we're spending our Friday afternoon visiting the stupid docks?" Yang asked her sister's partner.

"Ugh, they smell like fish!" Ruby cried out, pinching her nose.

"I won't disagree with you there," Jacob said in reply, though spending the last few hours there had gotten him used to the smell by now.

"I've heard that students visiting from Vacuo will be arriving by ship today," Weiss began matter-of-factly, "And, as a representative of Beacon, I feel as though it is my solemn duty to welcome them to this fine kingdom!"

"She wants to spy on them so she'll have the upper hand in the tournament," Blake deadpanned again.

"You can't prove that!"

"Weiss, you have moments where you're easier to read than a picture book," Blake replied to her outburst.

"Try a comic," Jacob muttered to Yang, receiving a bemused giggle in return.

"Whoa," Ruby said aloud, grabbing everyone's attention.

There, down the street from the docks, a Dust shop had been raided, just as it had in canon. Jacob and the four Huntresses wandered up to the scene of the crime, to find it exactly as the show had placed it. The remains of a glass window and what appeared to be glass-windowed door were shattered around the entrance to the store; the pattern of the glass for the door looked as though it had been smashed from the outside, whereas the main window of the store was the inverse.

Jacob's hometown was known for it's fair share of criminal activity, mainly in the region known as the South Valley, but robberies were practically a day-to-day hazard of living in his city—along with an ungodly amount of tweekers in the downtown—and as a result Jacob had seen enough post-robbery crime scenes to know the attack pattern. This robbery was fast, organized and knew exactly what it was after: Dust, and lots of it.

"What happened here?" Ruby asked the two detectives working the scene.

"Robbery. Second Dust shop to be hit this week. This place is turning into a jungle..."

A disgusted and yet disappointed sigh left Yang's mouth. "That's terrible," she added.

"They left all the money again," the first detective said to his partner within earshot. _How convenient,_ Jacob's mind rattled off to nothing in particular. "Ah, it just doesn't make a lick of sense," the detective continued, "Who'd need that much Dust anyway?"

"I don't know, an army?" the second detective replied.

"You thinking the, uh, White Fang?"

"Yeah, I'm thinking we don't get paid enough for this."

It was a few seconds before Weiss began to speak up. "Hmph, the White Fang. What an awful bunch of degenerates," she said, crossing her arms and pointing her nose upwards.

 _Ah boy, here we go,_ JonTron's voice lamented in Jacob's subconscious, accented by him actually rolling his eyes.

"What's _your_ problem?" replied Blake, right on cue.

"My problem? I simply don't care for the criminally insane."

"The White Fang is hardly a bunch of psychopaths," Blake continued, crossing her arms angrily. "They're a collection of misguided Faunus."

Weiss' response? "Misguided? They want to wipe Humanity off the face of the planet!"

"So then they're _very_ misguided. Either way, it doesn't explain why they would rob a Dust shop in the middle of downtown Vale!"

"See, that's where Blake's making sense," Jacob added, his knowledge beginning to show its power over the situation. "This isn't a White Fang strategy at all, at least from what I've heard. They're all about aggressive protests, riots if things get outta hand and _maybe_ some more extreme actions if the wrong one is pissed off." He and Blake locked eyes for a second, the relief in her eyes suggesting gratitude for backing up her claims.

If only she knew the truth about her _beloved_ dickhead boyfriend Adam.

"Hmm... Jacob's got a point. Besides, the police never caught that Torchwick guy I ran into a few months ago... Maybe it was him."

Torchwick. Jacob had completely forgotten about Roman Torchwick; yet another obstacle to hurdle over in his long-term crusade. Coupled with that tiny psychopath attached to his hip Neopolitan they were certain to become more than just a human headache with a bowler hat and a umbrella-sword. "Yeah, if what the news had reported about Roman Torchwick is taken into account, this is definitely his type of heist now that I think about it," Jacob fibbed; he knew damn-well that Roman was the one behind this Dust raid...

And this one would be far from the last.

"That still doesn't change the fact that the White Fang are a bunch of scum," Weiss continued stubbornly.

Muller swore for a split second he saw Blake's cat ears twitch under her bow.

"Those Faunus only know how to lie, cheat, and steal," Weiss retorted.

 _That's racist,_ Jeremy from CinemaSins responded in Jacob's head, followed by the classic **DING!** to boot.

"That's not necessarily true..." Yang began, only for a cry to reach their collective ears.

"Hey, stop that Faunus!"

The five companions about-faced and rushed to the pier to see the commotion.

Perched on the side railing of the ship closest at anchor stood a a tan-skinned boy with short spiky light-blonde hair and dark-gray—or maybe they were technically blue—eyes. He wore two red wrist bracers over black fingerless gloves and an open loose-collared white jacket with no shirt underneath, displaying a solid six-pack. Blue cargo pants tied up with a white belt, a chain on the right belt look of his pants, and white bandages on his legs. He sported black and yellow sneakers and wears a twisted golden necklace around his neck, with a round pendant dead-center.

But the most striking feature about him wasn't the abs or the hair or the goofy smile he was sporting.

No, it was the long, gold prehensile monkey tail he sported.

Lo and behold the Monkey King, Sun Wukong.

"Thanks for the ride, guys!" He shouted to the crew members trying to catch him. With a laugh, he sprung from the side of the ship and down to the pier, hitting the deck with a roll and immediately breaking into a sprint.

"You no-good stowaway!" One of the sailors roared at him.

Cementing his position as one of many comedic-relief-type characters in this show, Sun climbed up a lamppost and latched his monkey tail around the arm of the lamp. "Hey! A no-good stowaway would've been caught! I'm a great stowaway," he added, punctuating his point by eating a banana in one go.

"Hey! Get down from there this instant!" Came the voice of one of the two detectives, who had now taken to dealing with Wukong.

Sun only replied by dropping the banana peel on the detective's face, who merely growled in return. The monkey-like Faunus twirled upwards to crouch on the lamppost— _How the HELL is his tail strong enough to do that!?_ Jacob mentally screamed— laughed in amusement at the detective and leapt from the lamppost onto the pier above, taking off at a dead sprint to escape his pursuers.

As he ran past Team RWBY, Jacob caught the wink that he sent Blake's way in slow-mo in the show and continued to be chased by the officers.

"Looks like you've got an admirer, Blake," Jacob joked to her, tapping her with his elbow. She simply stood there, mouth slightly agape in surprise.

"Well, Weiss," Yang began while audibly attempting to stifle a laugh, "you wanted to see the competition, and there it goes..."

"Quick! We have to observe him!" And with that, Weiss took off like a bullet, charging after Sun and the cops. Ruby and Yang gave chase as well, leaving Jacob with Blake as she stared off into space, lost in thought.

"Yo, Blake? Woo-hoo? Hey, kitty-cat?" Jacob waved his hand in front of her face, snapping her out of her stupor.

"Wha-what? Oh, uh, sorry. Wait, what did you just call me?" She glowered at him as she processed what he called her.

"Sorry, thought it would get your attention," he sheepishly admitted. "I mean it did work."

"Just, don't call me that around the girls, I don't want them to... you know, catch on." She turned and began to jog after them.

 _Not like that's gonna matter for much longer_ , Jacob thought to himself as he remembered the end of _The Stray,_ taking off after the girls.

The three parties ducked and weaved their way through the streets, maneuvering around the tourists and locals as best as they could. Ironically, Jacob's years of travel to crowded places like the conventions, Disney Parks, et cetera gave him an edge in regards to making his way through the crowd. "Find a blocker, head for the end zone,"was the moniker his family had taken when out and about, and that was giving him enough advantage to keep up with RWBY and Wukong.

 _Wait a minute,_ he suddenly thought as they found their way onto a crowded street, Sun and the cops rounding the next intersection ahead, _There's something I'm missing here, someone else we get introduced to... but who_ —

The five companions rounded the corner as well, only for the Schnee heiress to fly headlong into someone, sending both parties tumbling to the ground. Weiss recovered from her fall and looked up only to see Sun jump onto a building and disappear from her view.

"No, he got away!"

Jacob wasn't paying attention. He was focused on the person Weiss had smacked into.

"Uhh... Weiss?" Yang pointed down at the same person.

Weiss finally looked down to see whom she had collided with... only to be met with an overly excited grin.

Meanwhile, in the back of the group, Jacob was fighting that same clamminess he had felt when he first saw Pyrrha in the Emerald Forest.

This girl...

Curly, Ginger red hair, topped with an _ahoge_ stray hair and a pink bow.

Bright green eyes, light skin and freckles.

A whitish-gray old-fashioned blouse with short gray feminine overalls, and a black and green collar with a matching pair of stockings.

And a sophisticated series of wires, servos, motherboards and God knows what else just below her synthetic skin, hidden from plain sight by the most adorable smile in the Universe.

"Sal-u-tations!" said Penny Polendina.

Jacob's stomach roiled in his torso like a stormy sea. _How the flying fuck did I forget **Penny**!?_

"Um... hello," Ruby said awkwardly as Jacob continued to reel in his audacity and stupidity, accented by his brain shooting him images of her murder during _P.v.P._

"Are you... okay?" Yang said as Penny continued to lay on the ground.

"I'm wonderful! Thank you for asking."

Yang and the rest of her team looked to one another in an attempt to assess the situation. "Do you... wanna get up?"

Penny seemed to ponder the question, just like an early smartphone would. "Yes!" she finally answered before vaulting back onto her feet, the members of Team RWBY backing off a step. "My name is Penny! It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"Hi Penny. I'm Ruby."

"I'm Weiss."

"Blake."

"Are you sure you didn't hit your head?" Yang received a smack to the arm by Blake in response. "Oh, I'm Yang."

Jacob snapped out of his stunned stupor. "O-oh, and I'm Jacob," he said, bowing his head in greeting.

"It's a pleasure to meet you!" the automaton girl repeated.

"You already said that," Weiss said.

Penny paused as she processed what Weiss had said. "So I did!"

 _Precious cinnamon bun, too pure for this world,_ Jacob's brain lamented.

"Well, sorry for running into you!" Weiss said as she and the rest of RWBY began to walk the other way.

"Take care, friend!" Ruby cried back to Penny.

 _Oh how you've set things in motion,_ Jacob thought to himself. "Maybe we'll see you 'round... Penny," he said with hesitation as his mind processed his change in situation, offering her a friendly smile of his own.

After a few seconds and about 70 feet of walking later, Yang muttered, "She was... weird..."

Weiss paid her no mind. "Now, where did that Faunus riff-raff run off to?"

"What did you call me?"

Sure enough, Penny had darted in front of them from out of nowhere, as if she had teleported to that spot in the blink of an eye. Knowing the rule of funny in this world, only God Himself knew if that was the case in all reality. Weiss was stunned as she tried to comprehend, looking back and forth between the two spaces Penny had been and currently was occupying. "Oh, I'm really sorry," Yang began apologizing, "I definitely didn't think you heard me!"

"No, not you." Penny walked her way through the group, up until she was directly in Ruby's face. "You!"

"Me? I-I don't know. I, what I, um, uh..." Ruby's eyes darted about, her brow arched in concern.

"You called me 'friend'! Am I really your friend?"

Ruby hummed over her predicament, looking over to her teammates, each one vehemently motioning against the idea.

Jacob just stood there, his mental panic cooling down as he simply shrugged in indifference.

"Y-Yeah, sure! Why not?"

A gong rang out as Weiss, Yang and Blake fell over with horrified expressions plastered on their faces.

"Where the hell did that gong come from?" Jacob asked no one in particular.

"Sen-sational! We can paint our nails, and try on clothes, and talk about cute boys!" She turned to Jacob next. "And you," she began, "You offered me a friendly smile. Are you my friend too?"

It was rather creepy how close she got to him; admittedly the Uncanny Valley was starting to bleed into his perception of her, giving him a subconscious unsettled feeling in his gut.

"Uh, sure, the more friends the merrier!"

" _Absolutely_ sen-sational!" she cried out with a giggle, "My first ever boy-friend!"

The blush from earlier returned to Jacob's face. "Well, I wouldn't put it like that per say; just call me friend for right now, okay?"

"Oh, is this what it was like when you met me?" Ruby asked Weiss as the heiress returned to her feet, stopping Penny from continuing onwards before she could embarass him further.

"No - she seems far more coordinated."

"So... what are you doing in Vale?" Yang asked the robotic girl.

"I'm here to fight in the tournament."

Jacob's stomach lurched a little as he was reminded of her canonical untimely fate.

"Wait, you're fighting in the tournament?" Weiss asked in bafflement.

Penny raised her hand to her "I'm combat ready!"

 _Oh Goddamnit that's too cute when it's in person,_ Jacob thought to himself.

"Forgive me, but you hardly look the part," Weiss replied.

"Says the girl wearing a dress," deadpanned Blake.

"It's a combat skirt!" Weiss defended, Ruby zooming over to her side with a resounding "Yeah!" and a low-five. But after a brief second, a hint of realization flashed across Weiss' face. "Wait a minute," she began, walking up to Penny and grabbing her by the shoulders, "If you're here for the tournament, does that mean you know that monkey-tailed... rapscallion?"

"The who...?"

Weiss held up a crudely-drawn picture of Sun, though where she got it Jacob had no clue. "The filthy Faunus from the boat!"

"Why do you keep saying that?!"

Weiss turned to meet Blake's comment. "Huh?"

"Stop calling him a rapscallion! Stop calling him a degenerate! He's a person!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Weiss began as she let go of Penny and turned her attention to the Faunus in disguise. "Would you like me to stop referring to the trash can as a trash can? Or this lamppost as a lamppost?"

"Stop it!"

"Stop what? He clearly broke the law. Give him time; he'll probably join up with those other Faunus in the White Fang!"

Blake gritted her teeth and clenched her fists in anger. "You ignorant little brat!"

Before Weiss could even respond, Blake turned about and walked away in a huff, leaving the heiress shocked at her choice of words. "How dare you talk to me like that! I am your teammate!"

"You are a judgmental little girl," Blake retorted as Weiss ran to catch up with her. The two stood in the streets, 3 feet apart or so, the fire of their arguement practically palpable from as far out as the other three were.

"What in the world makes you say that?"

"The mere fact that you would sort that Faunus boy with a terrorist group solely based on his species makes you just as much of a scoundrel as you believe him to be!"

Yang slid up beside Ruby and Jacob, looking like she was about to tug at her collar. "Um, I think we should probably go..."

"Where are we going?" said a smiling Penny, without a clue as to what was going on.

Back and forth the two began to argue, Weiss going on the offensive and Blake retaliating in kind.

"So you admit it! The White Fang is just a radical group of terrorists!"

Blake: "That's not what I meant, and you know it!"

"I don't understand why this is causing such a problem!"

"That is the problem!"

"Are we gonna have to listen to them the whole way back?" Jacob lamented with an eye roll.

* * *

Turns out, not only did he have to listen to them the whole way back, but even after they had returned to their dorms.

Somehow, even though there was a hallway separating the two dorms, Jacob could still make out the faintest bit of their arguing from across the way.

"Jesus, Weiss," Jacob mumbled from beneath a pillow over his head, "You argue so much you'd make my mother seem angelic." In the back of his mind, the last part of _The Stray_ was playing out, _verbatim._

 _"You realize you are defending an organization that hates Humanity," Weiss said, "don't you? The Faunus of the White Fang are pure evil!"_

 _"There's no such thing as pure evil!" Blake retorted back. "Why do you think they hate Humanity so much? It's because of people like Cardin, people like you, that force the White Fang to take such drastic measures!"_

 _"People like me?"_

 _"You're discriminatory!"_

 _Weiss grew furious, walking to the bookshelf in front of the window. "I'm a victim! You want to know why I despise the White Fang? Why I don't particularly trust the Faunus? It's because they've been at war with my family for years. War, as in actual **bloodshed**. My grandfather's company has had a target painted across its back for as long as I can remember. And ever since I was a child, I've watched family friends disappear; board members executed; an entire train car full of Dust, stolen." _

_The same Dust cart that Blake and Adam raided in her Trailer, no doubt about it._

 _"And every day, my father would come home, furious. And that made for a very difficult childhood," the heiress finished, punctuating her point with a sharp slam of her fist atop the bookshelf._

R _uby looked to her partner with worried silver eyes. She had to comfort her. "Weiss, I-"_

 _"No!" Weiss turned back and walked up to Blake. "You want to know why I despise the White Fang? It's because they're a bunch of liars, thieves, and murderers!"_

 _And then the clincher._

 ** _"Well maybe we were just tired of being pushed around!"_**

That time around it wasn't just his mind. Blake's scream of anger didn't just whisper its way into his room like the rest of the conversation had; It was clear as a bell what she had said, loud enough to clearly go through 2 walls and a hallway.

Jacob rose from his bed as he realized what was about to happen.

He opened the door just in time to see Blake race out the door of RWBY's dorm and down the hall towards the stairwell.

"Blake, wait," Ruby cried after her Faunus teammate, "come back!"

JNPR's door swung wide open as all four of them barreled into the hallway. "What happened!?" Jaune asked in confusion and concern.

Jacob felt his blood pressure jump a bit. "Weiss really goofed up, that's what happened. I'm going after her, the rest of you stay here!" and like that, Jacob was thundering down the hallway like a charging rhino.

* * *

He found her exactly where he expected her to be; out front of the courtyard statue, simply standing there in the chilling night air. It was already a few minutes past 9:00, and the temperatures were already dying down pretty quickly. Vale's lights prevented the stars from manifesting their light in the sky, leaving only the brightest stars to see. It was strange to see which stars were where, being so familiar with the constellations of Earth that his brain would absolutely ache if he didn't see Polaris somewhere directly overhead.

As he approached her, she must have heard his approach, as she turned around in surprise. "Go away, Jacob," she said, choking her way through a sob.

"You know I'm not doing that; not until you've calmed down some."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. The cold night air seeped into his body,but it didn't chill him; he had always had a propensity for being better suited for cold climates, and tonight was rather pleasant by his wager. Jacob partially wondered whether or not Sun would show up now that Jacob was here too.

"Why are you here?"

"Because you need someone to talk to," he offered.

"I don't _need_ anyone at the moment," she harshly retorted before catching herself.

"Don't try to pull the loner crap on me, Blake, I used to do that in middle and early high school and it only helps for a little bit before you start feeling lonely."

She looked back at him and glowered. He responded in kind with an irked glower of his own. "I just... I just..." She faltered before even beginning her sentence, giving up and simply hanging her head. You've known this whole time what I am... where I'm from... and part of me thinks you know what I've done."

"True, true, and..." He hesitated to answer the last one, mainly as it would put his position at risk. "Perhaps to some extent if my hunch is correct," he finally answered her, "But that doesn't matter as much—if not at all—in comparison to _who_ you are."

"Then I guess there's no point to wear this around you." She closed her eyes and slowly lifted her arms up to her bow.

"Blake, you don't need to—" Jacob was stopped by Blake as she placed her hand up to silence him. Her other hand continued to move up to her bow.

She grabbed ahold and pulled the string, the bow slowly releasing from her hair. The stray tear escaped only to be caught by her own hand wiping it away.

There, atop her head, hiding amidst her hair were her pair of two small cat ears.

Naught but the wind itself carried any sound for what felt like forever.

"Well... Now you see the truth. Does it change your mind to see it in the flesh?" she asked defeatedly.

He shook his head and chuckled. "No. As far as I've seen nothing has really changed just from taking off a bow." He gingerly placed a hand on her shoulder to try to help calm her down. "You're still Blake Belladonna. That's who you are; That's what you wanted people to see, right? I don't care about those ears, they're practically nothing to me but just a mild... cosmetic difference, no different from skin or eye color."

She didn't respond, only looking at him with a surprised look in her eyes. _She was expecting me to change my tone... wonder how often that's happened before._

"Tell you what," he began, "I'll leave you be, since that seems to be what you want so much, but I expect to see you tomorrow morning with the rest of your Team, okay?"

She looked aside, muddling over what he said. After what felt like an eternity, she nodded and quietly agreed.

"Alrighty then, I _will_ see you in the morning, right? _Right_. Night Blake."

He turned around and began walking away, already aware she wouldn't follow through with it. Overhead, he heard what sounded like sneaker footfalls along the pillars and columns.

 _Keep an eye on her, Mr. Wukong,_ Jacob thought to himself, _I don't want Yang to beat my teeth out if things don't go canonically._

By the time he made it back to the dorms, it was 20 minutes after 9:00 and both RWBY—sans Weiss, no surprise there—and JNPR were anxiously waiting.

"There you are," Pyrrha sighed in relief, "we were worried she'd fled into town with how long you were gone."

"Well, she's being obstinate, no surprise there," Jacob replied, "But I did ask her to come back tonight so we could talk this out tomorrow morning. I met up with her at the Huntsmen fountain in the courtyard, but she insisted on being alone at the moment. Give her a bit, I think she'll be fine." He looked over to the worried leader of RWBY, still a little shaken by what had transpired. "How are you holding up, Ruby?"

"I, uhm, alright I guess..." Her response was ended with a long hesitant pause. "What about Blake?"

Jacob didn't really have a good answer for her. He muddled over his options for a second before deciding to simply say, "I think she'll be fine, she just needs some time to think things over. She should be back soon if how I left her is any indication."

That seemed to calm them down somewhat, though Ruby still had a look of concern on her face.

"Hey," Jacob said reassuringly, his hand giving her shoulder a light squeeze, "she'll be alright. She's just having to clear her head for a little bit."

"Oh, I hope you're right..."

* * *

 **And scene!**

 **2 weeks of brainstorming how to go about this chapter and... I'll admit that I still feel I could have fixed some things. Anywho, For those wondering who this Gabe guy is, I updated Chapter 12 after a last-minute creative decision, so go ahead and look down at the update portion on that Chapter if you're just returning to this story.**

 **Once again, I have to thank everyone who's been giving this story support, I really do appreciate all the feedback... even some of the less-than-kind ones are helpful. Sorta. Kinda.**

 **Anyway, next chapter Jacob charges headlong into the White Fang and we get FIRST BLOOD! Oh, and Roman finally shows up. Yay, I get to write for that glorious bastard!**

 **Review, Follow, Favorite, all that good stuff if you'd like and I will see you... in the next chapter. Buh-bye!~**


	15. Red and Black and White and Blue

**Prepare for battle, it's gon' get good in here~!**

 **Also, +17,000 WORDS, JESUS CHRIST ON A BIKE CYCLING TO MASS ON A SUNDAY I NEED TO START COMPARTMENTALIZING!**

 **Get the popcorn and get ready for a read-a-thon.**

 **To answer the common question reviewers were asking about Jacob and Weiss... I'unno. If it happens, it happens, the only ships I'm definitely considering are Arkos and Renora. Possibly Eclipse too. Others are currently as guaranteed as winning a coin toss in a vacuum** **, so God only knows what I'll do long-term.**

 **Zeus Carver: "Not even GOD knows what you're doing!"**

 **Ohshutup.**

* * *

 **Chapter 15: Red and Black and White and Blue**

 _"All you have to do is hold your first soldier who is dying in your arms, and have that terribly futile feeling that I can't do anything about it...Then you understand the horror of war."_ ― _Gen. Norman Schwarzkopf Jr., US Army_

* * *

"What do you mean you haven't seen her!?"

"I'm telling you exactly what I know Ruby, we haven't seen hide nor hair of Blake since Friday night!"

"Oh, come on Ruby, you've been asking everybody on campus and the answer is all the same."

"Jacob, you're not helping!"

"Sorry, sorry, just trying to calm you down, Ruby; you can't exactly figure out a plan if you're running around like a chicken with it's head cut off."

It turned out that a glaring Ruby Rose was both adorable and kinda scary, especially considering what her Silver Eyes were capable of doing. Jacob simply sat back as Ruby continued to practically beg the members of Team CFVY for any information on her teammate, as if the last 4 times she'd done so were any different now.

While the remaining members of RWBY and JNPR were busy pacing about in their rooms that Sunday morning in concern over Blake not arriving back at her dorm either yesterday or today, Jacob had been feigning concern mainly to cover his own trail; He knew where she was in all truth, but he couldn't reveal that to them. So, he donned the metaphorical mask once again, except this time with the tone of "Worried" written across it in big black letters... up until about an hour ago.

 _Honestly, this shit is Goddamned exhausting to keep doing,_ Jacob bemoaned to himself mentally; He was no stranger to donning emotional masks before arriving on Remnant―Lord knew how often he'd used them as of late―but using them in the presence of those he called "friends" was a metric ton harder than it sounded.

"Ruby," Velvet began, placing a comforting hand on the silver eyed Huntress' shoulder, "No one has seen Blake on school grounds since Friday night, I don't know what else I can say to help you..."

Ruby took upon a look of disappointment; Jacob could tell it wasn't the answer she wanted, that was for certain. "...Right, right," she muttered under her breath, "I'm sorry. I'm just really concerned about her; I mean, why wouldn't I be worried about her, she's a part of my team... or at least I think she is." The last part was barely audible for normal human ears, so it was little doubt that Velvet heard it.

"I'm certain she'll be fine, Ruby; she's a Huntress, and a fantastic one at that," Velvet encouraged, though there was an audible tone of disappointment in that sentence. Velvet, as it turned out, had been well-aware of Blake's secret for some time and the very notion that something like this would put a crack in RWBY's cohesion was a worry that she and Jacob had shared yesterday morning over their breakfast out. Now it seemed to be manifesting to reality, and it was visibly egging a bit at Velvet; there was a look of concern in her eyes for the younger student.

Jacob felt an uncomfortable chill crawl down the length of his spine as he made eye contact with the rabbit Faunus. On the one hand, it could have been due to the sizeable wind chill this morning, blowing in from the sea to cool what felt like a warm day on the approach as the distant bells of a clock tower heralded the arrival of the 7:00 A.M. On the other hand he new damned-well what chilled him so much; it was the slight heartbreak that he could see in both their eyes and the beating his subconscious was giving him over the fact of his position. He had to admit that his behavior here and now was somewhat callous and perhaps a bit cold, but it was not helped in turn that he was at the very least well-informed of what, where and who Blake was currently with at the moment. He shifted uncomfortably against the shade tree he had leaned onto as the two Huntresses and the Huntsman stopped to talk in the Academy gardens, not far from where Jaune and Ruby first met an also not far from where Jacob first decided to visit Amber. Just as was the case that morning, the soft green glow of Beacon's main tower couldn't help but be noticeable to Jacob under his watchful gaze.

 _Speaking of Amber and the tower,_ Jacob reminded himself, _I ought to go and check up on her later; perhaps today or tomorrow._

"Ruby," Jacob began as he watched the silver-eyed girl began to pace and fidget with the end of her cape, "It will do you no good to pace about and worry like a mother waiting for her child." He walked up to her and stopped her pace, resting his palm on her shoulder to get her attention. Her eyes darted to him, anxiety absolutely running circles in her head if the look in said eyes were of any indication. The comment however caught her off guard, as it finally dawned on her after a few seconds how she was acting. Sure, she had the concern of a team leader, but even for Jacob―who was used to being a follower and not a leader and by extension knowing a good leader when he saw one―wasn't necessarily taking the initiative like one.

After another few seconds, Ruby let slip a deep sigh of tire. "You're right. I'm sorry," she began, her head bowed in tire and perhaps a smidge of embarrassment.

"Tell you what," Jacob began after he let out a small chuckle, "How about you and the others get yourselves ready for the day and get some breakfast before you start looking for her. Meanwhile, I've gotten my breakfast and I'm all ready for today, so I'll head out and start the search for her, okay?"

Ruby seemed to want to protest the idea judging by her body language, but Jacob took his other hand and lifted his Scroll up from inside his pocket. "We'll keep in touch via Scrolls if that would help ease your mind," he offered.

After a few seconds, Ruby replied in a resolute whisper, "...Okay."

Jacob felt a small smile cross his face. Sometimes she reminded him so much of his little brother Luke; both were of similar age, though Jacob was already being outpaced in the height department by his little brother, and in contrast Ruby was around 2-3 inches shorted than he was. Granted, by the time she was done growing she would also outpace him as well, but that was of lesser concern. Both were headstrong and analytical, as well as perhaps being a smidge antisocial at times, though Jacob was not usually a social butterfly―the last few months notwithstanding―and were more tinkerers and builders than anything else. Hell, both were all about speed and the color red, as made evident by his choice of a Blood Angels army as his 40K army, and they both were both kinda goofy at times. Being around her, especially when she was all smiles and sunshine, it felt like his brother was with him, in a way.

Unfortunately, that left him with a bitter taste in his mouth when he'd recall the levels of shit that would be thrown her way pretty soon. And how much damage he could prevent if he succeeded in his mission.

And speaking of which, he had practically beat himself over the head with one of the pillows on his bed when he arrived back at his dorm. " _Penny, Penny, sweet adorable cinnamon bun Penny, may God hit me over the head with the Stupid Stick for forgetting about Best Robo-Girl!"_ were the words used by him that night as he vented his frustration at himself, _on_ himself. For the last few months he had been so preoccupied on Pyrrha and Amber that he had completely blanked Penny out of his memory. Now that negligence was beating over the head for his stupidity and alerting him to the additional pressures now bestowed upon him by his own mind. Admittedly, he was well aware he was starting to get an Atlas complex―or perhaps it was a messiah complex if his Psychology classes were correct in their definitions―but in all reality, what else would a person do if you had knowledge and by extension the power to change a character's fate?

 _Knowledge is_ _Power,_ Gabriel Angelos' voice rang out in Jacob's mind.

While Jacob suppressed the urge to shudder at the additional memories of yesterday brought on by mention of that name, Ruby began to head back to her dorm, the look of worry never leaving her face as she walked down the pathway astride the cozy man-made pond, her red cape blowing gently in the inland-bound winds.

"Oh, I hate seeing her like that," Velvet said as she walked up beside Jacob, the two elders watching the young Huntress sulk away. "Do you think Blake's alright?"

The two locked eyes as Jacob came up with an answer. "Blake Belladonna? You kidding? That girl's seen more _scheiße_ than both you and I could poke at with a lightsaber."

There was a pregnant pause as Jacob realized he let slip a reference to _Star Wars_ AND liberally applied what little German he knew all at once.

"What's a lightsaber? And what's _scheiße_?"

Jacob felt the uncontrollable urge to slap himself for that Freudian slip. "Uh, local slang back home, sorry. I'll tell you about someday. R-Regardless, I need to start looking for her so Ruby doesn't give herself an ulcer."

"Well, in that case," she began, her ears perking up in confusion, "Where do you think you'll start?"

Jacob thought for a second in regards to that question; Vale was a fairly large city in square kilometers―granted nothing compared to his home city―and he only had so much time before things began to occur.

And about that time, his memory snapped back to yesterday morning.

"Actually, I have an idea where she could be. I'll call you guys and give you a heads up if I prove to be right. I'll see you around."

And with that and a gentle handshake with Velvet, Jacob took off for the city, walking his way back to the main walkway out of the campus and into the urban sprawl of the Kingdom of Vale.

 _Time to find a stray cat._

 _And check up on that order of mine while I'm at it._

* * *

Blake did not imagine that her weekend would be spent like this; on the run from her teammates with another Faunus and currently sitting having what amounted to brunch with said stranger Faunus.

Sometimes she wished that she stayed on Menagerie; live a normal life instead of this constant madness.

She had to admit, thinking about it all was making her stomach upset. Thank the gods that they served a good peppermint tea here.

She took a long sip from her teacup as she steeled her nerves. Blake looked across the way at her new companion―Sun Wukong, she had learned his name was―as he reciprocated. "So," she began hesitantly, "You wanna know more about me."

For a second, there was no response.

But that didn't last for long. "Finally, she speaks! Nearly two days and you've given me nothing but small talk and weird looks!" He continued to hold his morning drink in the grasp of his prehensile tail, his only Faunus trait outside of the usual superior night vision found in all of their kind.

Blake stifled an exasperated sigh to the best of her abilities... but she couldn't control the annoyed furrow that made its way to her brow.

"Yeah, like _that_."

Neither could she resist the urge to roll her eyes at that. For a second, her eyes were drawn outwards to the pedestrians in the Wharf District that morning―however small they were in number―simply going about their lives as if there was nothing to worry about. The two had secured a table on the upstairs balcony of this local restaurant by the name of the Harbor and Hearth, and for the most part their morning had been fairly silent with neither of them really talking or even really acknowledging one another up until just this minute.

 _Might as well start from the beginning,_ she decided mentally. "Sun...are you familiar with the White Fang?"

She continued to drink her tea as he responded vehemently, "Of course! I don't think there's a Faunus on the planet who hasn't heard of them. Stupid, holier-than-thou creeps that use force to get whatever they want. Bunch of freaks, if you ask me!"

 _And now for the bombshell,_ she mused to herself. "I was once a member of the White Fang, actually."

Sun went cross-eyed for a split-second before mistiming his swallow of his drink and promptly began to choke a bit on his drink in raw surprise. "Wait a minute, _you_ were a member of the White Fang?!"

"That's right. I've been a member of the White Fang for most of my life... You could almost say I was born into it..."" her mind began to trail off as she remembered some of her first rallies that she could remember going to with her father. Gods, that felt so long ago now; everything seemed so black and white, that they Fang were the good guys fighting to cure the injustices in the name of peace.

But everyone had to wake up from a dream eventually.

"Back then," she began, as she stared down at her teacup in contemplation, "Things were different. In the ashes of The Great War, the formation of the White Fang was meant to be a symbol of peace and unity between humans and the Faunus. And yet, despite this, despite being promised equality, we Faunus were still subjected to hatred and discrimination; Humanity still didn't see us as anything more than lesser beings."

She paused as her mind wheeled back to a myriad of instances she had seen this: human stores refusing to serve Faunus even when they were starving or down on their luck, human children being told that Faunus children were "not safe to be around", and even humans outright bullying Faunus into submission... like what happened with Cardin and Velvet.

"And from that," she continued, "the White Fang rose up to be the voice of our people. And I was there."

She started to remember her time in the protesting masses, just a little Faunus girl, armed with only a picket sign and a heart full of hope for a better future, shouting her lungs out for freedom and equality. she began again, noticing how small her voice seemed at the moment; small and meek, as if it belonged to a timid housewife rather than the Huntress she was. "I was there at the front of every rally. I took part in every boycott... I actually thought we were making a difference."

"But then," she continued, "five years ago, our leader stepped down, and a new one took his place. A new leader... and a new way of thinking." Her mind raced through the memories of her father Ghira stepping down only for Sienna Khan to rise up and take the reins. "Suddenly, our peaceful protests were turning into organized attacks... we set fire to shops that refused to serve us... we hijacked cargo from companies that used Faunus labor..."

 _like that one you raided with Adam,_ she thought to herself in disgust.

"And the worst part was... it was working; We were being treated as equals, but not out of respect... it was out of fear."

Across the way, the monkey Faunus simply sat there dumbstruck as he seemed to be processing it all. She took a sip from her tea as her stomach again threatened to rebel. "So I left. I decided I no longer wanted to use my skills to aid in their violence, and instead, I would dedicate my life to becoming a Huntress. So here I am: a criminal hiding in plain view, all with the help of a little black bow." She ended her tale with a little wiggle of her ears from underneath her bow for emphasis.

After a second, the stunned Wukong boy spoke. "So," he began in a low voice, "have you told your friends any of this?"

"Well, she hasn't exactly told her teammates _verbatim_ , if that's what you're asking."

The two Faunus were well and spooked by the intrusion into their conversation. From out of the shadows of the doorframe stepped the stocky frame of Beacon's only solo act. "Jacob, what are you doing here!?" cried Blake in surprise. _How did he find us?_

"How did you find us?" Sun said with some faint venom to his tone.

"Call it a hunter's intuition," Muller replied. "So," he paused as he swiped a chair from its table at planted a seat at theirs, "Now that I finally found you, there's one thing I need to do..."

Jacob pulled his Scroll out of his pocket. Blake felt her stomach tie into a knot.

There was a faint ring. "Hey, Ruby?"

 _Please don't,_ Blake screamed mentally.

"Wanted to give you a heads up, I haven't found Blake yet but I think I'm on the right trail."

 _...What?_

Blake continued to watch in surprise as Jacob essentially covered her trail. "I'm following it for right now," he continued, "but I don't have any guarantee at the moment; if anything changes I'll call you guys. Right, right, I will. Take care. Say hi to Yang for me." And with that he hit the disconnect button.

The balcony was silent for a solid 5 seconds. Jacob looked back and forth between the two, Blake standing with her mouth admittedly agape and Sun simply standing there confused.

"What?" was all he manifested, "you didn't think I'd seriously cut your little investigation short?" He smirked mirthfully at the pair.

"Who said we were investigating anything?" She snapped back at him venomously.

Jacob simply put his hands up in front of him. "What it sounds like, it sounds like," he added nonchalantly. "And with all due respect Blake, your venom's starting to get on my nerves, and _that_ is a rare feat in and of itself."

Blake felt like she should berate him for spying on her... but for all intents and purposes she had neither the time or the inclination to deal with that. She took a deep breath and the irritation died down. "Sorry about that, I'm not usually the one being spied on... Uh, not that I did much spying or anything while I was in the White Fang..." She apologized before realizing how incriminating that sentence was at first; Granted she had spied for the Fang in preparation for upcoming raids, but even then it was on rare occasion when there were no scouts available.

"Regardless," Jacob added with a dismissive wave. A waitress quickly brought out a hot mug of tea and he quickly thanked her before she left, leaving Blake a second to assess her situation. Here she was, discussing her past with a stranger Faunus and a nosey compatriot in Huntsmanship over morning tea while her teammates were worried sick about her―well, sans Weiss probably―and her former colleagues were out causing more and more trouble for themselves... in theory.

"Now then," Jacob began as he finished a large gulp of tea, kneading his fingers together, "It's obvious to me that part of you is really hoping that the Fang aren't behind this nuttiness. I can understand that, maybe not on a personal level, but I can at least understand the reasoning behind it." He leaned forward in his chair, his elbows both resting on the tabletop.

"So in that case," Jacob continued, "What is your plan in regards to this... dilemma?"

"I still don't believe the White Fang is behind these robberies," Blake admitted to him, "They've never needed that much Dust before."

"What if they did?"

Both Blake and Jacob turned to look at Sun.

"I mean... the only way to prove that they didn't do it," Sun began mazing his way through what seemed to be a very complicated thought, "is to go to the place where they would most likely go to if they were to do it, and not find them there! Right?"

"...Makes sense to me, I guess," Jacob replied after a second of following Sun's train of thought.

"The only thing is, I've no idea where that would be," Blake added.

"Well, while I was on the ship, I heard some guys talking about offloading a huge shipment of Dust coming in from Atlas."

"How huge?" Jacob asked Sun.

"Huge. Big Schnee Company freighter," Sun confirmed.

"You're sure?"

"Definitely."

"When is it set to come in?"

Sun hesitated for a second before remembering the answer. "Later this afternoon if I heard them correctly."

Jacob turned to Blake after another gulp of tea. "That's probably your best bet. And if I had to venture a guess, if the Fang are after the Dust they'll strike after nightfall."

As much as she hated the notion that the proud White Fang would skulk about in the shadows of the night, it would make sense strategically with the advantage of Faunus' superior night vision. "Alright," she sighed, "we'll scope out the docks tonight. But in the meantime, what about the rest of my team?"

"In regards to them we simply lie low, scope out a spot and then just wait until night arrives," he replied back assuredly. "We avoid unnecessary contact and we simply... do what we gotta do," he finished with a accepting shrug. "I mean, I can wander about town a bit and throw them off a bit, if that helps. 'Sides, I put in an order for something at one of the stores to remind me of home, so I can stop by and check on that while I'm at it."

"Good idea, you'll look less inconspicuous that way," Sun agreed.

Blake felt a nervous sigh out. "Alright. We'll meet back up at the docks at, say... 7:00?"

Jacob nodded in agreement. "Let's see," he said to no one in particular as he looked down at his watch, "10 hours to keep the rest of Team RWBY off your tail and then a potential all-nighter in search of a potential terrorist organization―no offense―that may be stealing metric tons of weapons-grade Dust?"

Silence held sway as Jacob got up and set down a 5-Lien bill on the table for his drink. He turned to look at Blake, an unusually confident smile on his face before he delivered what felt in the back of her mind to be a reference, though what it was she wasn't sure.

"Groovy."

* * *

"Blaaake!"

"Blaaake!"

"Blaaake! Where are yooouu~!"

"Blaaake!"

"..."

"Weiss, you're not helping," Ruby Rose turned and bemoaned her partner.

"Oh, you know what might actually help? The police," Weiss practically spat back at the young Huntress.

" _Ugh,_ Weiss..." Ruby fumed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It was _just_ an idea!"

"Yeah," Ruby muttered as she continued moving up the street, "a really _bad_ one." It had been 3 hours since Jacob had taken off into the city to start looking for Blake and only 1 hour since he had called her to let her know about his lead on her, but she had decided that the trio should at least start hunting for her as well; after all, Blake was _their_ teammate, she would feel awful if Jacob was the only one out searching. Currently the trio had made their way towards the west end of the Commercial District, not far from the edge of the Wharf District where the argument between Weiss and Blake had begun Friday evening, and they were making their way towards the docks in hopes that they might have some luck.

"Weiss, I think we should hear her side of the story before we jump to any conclusions," said Yang.

Weiss in turn replied, "I think that when we hear it, you'll all realize I was right!"

"And I think Weiss' hair looks wonderful today!"

That wasn't either of them, and Ruby certainly hadn't been the one talking. All three of them whipped around to see who the speaker was. Sure enough, Penny had been following right behind Weiss. "Aaaah! Penny! Where did you come from!?" Ruby screamed in both surprise and annoyance at being surprised. _How did she sneak up on us like that!?_

"Hey guys! What are you up to?" Penny asked, ignoring Ruby's question.

"We're looking for our friend Blake," Yang answered forlornly

"Ooooh, you mean the Faunus girl!"

Ruby, Weiss, and Yang stared at Penny. _What is she talking about?_.

"Wait, what do you mean by that?" Ruby asked.

"Uhh, the cat ears?" Penny replied, pointing to her own hair bow.

Yang let a small but nervous laugh loose as she replied, "What cat ears? She wears a... bow..."

The realization left them in silence, accented only by the blowing wind and the unusual sight of a tumbleweed that blew across their path.

"She does like tuna a lot..." Ruby thought aloud as the realization struck her with full force. Blake was a Faunus? How did Ruby never put two and two together before! Why hadn't she told anyone, especially her own teammates no less? Did she not trust them? Could they trust her now? Ruby's head was close to starting a whirling dervish of its own as possible as her mind processed all of it.

"So, where is she?" the odd girl asked somewhat absent-mindedly.

Penny's question snapped Ruby back to reality. "We don't know. She's been missing since Friday."

A massive gasp left Penny's lips. "That's terrible!" She approached Ruby and grabbed her by the shoulders firmly―practically a vice grip Ruby noticed―and resoundingly assured, "Well, don't you worry Ruby, my friend! I won't rest until we find your teammate!"

Ruby summoned up a weak smile to offer Penny, replying, "Uh, that's really nice of you, Penny, but we're okay! Really! Right, guys?"

She was met with silence. Looking over Penny's shoulder, she noticed that both blondes had gone AWOL, leaving her with the odd ginger girl. Oddly enough, the wind swapped directions, now blowing towards her instead of towards Penny and blowing yet another tumbleweed across their path.

"It sure is windy today!" Penny noted chipperly.

A sigh bubbled up from Ruby's throat, but Penny payed it no mind by all indication. "Alrighty then," the red-cloaked Huntress mumbled in defeat, "come on Penny."

The two girls continued to wander the streets of Vale, scouring the area as much as possible for their Faunus friend. They combed the easternmost edge of the Commercial District, asking store owners and the odd individual on the street whether they had seen her or not. Some had good leads at first, but then they would be contradicted by someone else a few minutes later. After an hour of wandering they finally crossed over into the Wharf District, and from there the crowds began to pick up again, if even a very miniscule amount. While the first wave of people from the other kingdoms had arrived Friday, more were due to come in in a week's time―word was that the Mistral fleets might actually arrive a week early putting them into port in 10 days or so from now―so these crowds might get even crazier soon.

"So, Blake is your friend?"

Another sigh escaped Ruby's lips. "Yes, Penny."

"But you're mad at her?"

"Yes. Well, I'm not, Weiss is."

"Is she friends with Blake?"

"Well, that's kind of up in the air right now..."

Penny paused for a second as it seemed she was trying to understand the implications. "But why?"

"Well, you see, Blake might not be who we thought she was..."

A massive gasp left Penny's throat. "Is she a man?"

Ruby spun on her heels and with her arms waving frantically replied, "No, no, Penny. She's..." Yet another sigh was let out in exasperation. "I don't know what she is. She didn't exactly talk to us before she decided to run off."

"I don't have a lot of friends, but if I did, I would want them to talk to me about things."

Ruby felt a sense of defeat at that. "Me too..." she murmured to no one in particular as the two continued to wander down the street.

 _What kind of leader am I that can't even keep her team together,_ she thought dejectedly, _how did I screw up so much? I should have followed after her Friday night, maybe then she would have come back and talked with us... Oh, Weiss, why did you have to go and be like that to her? I mean, I get it, she was ticked off at the White Fang, but then Blake started defending them, and then it just got so out of control. Gods... I'm starting to think maybe I wasn't cut out for being a leader._

Some part of her mind noted that she was starting to sound like Jaune a few weeks ago. That same part of her mind started telling her to buck up and step up to the plate for this one.

 _She's my teammate. She's my sister's partner. I have to find her._

* * *

"...Thanks anyways! This is hopeless."

Normally, out of the two sisters it was Ruby that was a bit more the naysayer at times; rare was it for Yang Xiao Long to find herself to be the dour type in any given situation. Her partner was out there somewhere and here she was hunting high and low for her but thus far to no avail.

Part of Yang felt like it was partially her fault; Blake was her partner, yet she hadn't even been able to stick out her neck for her when things got hairy.

Not being able to help someone felt like watching her Dad after Summer all over again...

She looked over to her sister's partner, the heiress, who simply stood there with a nonchalant look on her face. Now Yang felt perhaps a smidge annoyed; it _was_ her fault that Blake ran off in the first place with those remarks she made all throughout Friday evening.

"You really don't care if we find her, do you?" She asked Weiss with a hint of venom in her tone.

"Don't be stupid; of course I do," Weiss replied indignantly, "I'm just afraid of what she'll say when we find her. The innocent never run, Yang."

Yang turned her gaze downward as the heiress continued walking down the street. In her mind, she was fighting a war of opposing views; what Weiss said did admittedly ring true in most cases, bust still... she was Yang's partner. Sure, they hadn't really bonded as much as she had expected, but even then they had learned a fair amount about one another...

Until some part of her mind dropped a bombshell on that thought:

 _What if she was lying about who she is? What if the Blake she was projecting was just an act?_

Yang forcefully shook the thought from her mind. No, Blake had never felt like she was putting on an act at anytime in the last 3 months. The Blake she knew was the genuine article... even if she had withheld some things from her.

The two continued for another 15 minutes before they found themselves in familiar territory.

"We're back in the Wharf District," Yang noted aloud.

"That's the general idea," Weiss quipped back to her, "Maybe she came back here in search of something."

Yang felt a sigh coming on. "I just hope she's okay," she lamented.

Just then, immediately following the sound of a ringing bell on a doorframe, a familiar voice reached her ears.

"...Oh yes, this is perfect ma'am, thank you!"

Weiss had apparently heard it too, as they both whipped around to find the source of the voice. Sure enough, 2 stores down from where they were standing now, Jacob was standing in the doorframe with a large bag in his hand. There was a genuine smile plastered on his face, but before she could get a good look at him in total, she picked up movement out of the corner of her eye. Sure enough, Weiss had begun heading his direction, trying to flag him down.

"Oh, Jacob!" Weiss cried out, "Over here!"

Jacob's head snapped around in what seemed to be surprise, though if there was any surprise to his actions he did a good job of hiding it. "Hey, Weiss! Yang! I was wondering where you guys were!" He started towards them at a brisk walk, an unusual pep in his step.

Part of Yang really hoped he had good news, yet part of her thought it had something to do with what was in the bag.

"Where have you been, you concussed dolt?" Wess chided him as they reached one another prodding an accusing finger at him.

"Nice to see you too, Ice Queen," Jacob deadpanned in response "But, I've got some good news! I'm hot on another trail and this one looks like it could be onto something; but more than that, I was passing through the area in my search, and it turns out my order got done in record time!"

At that, Yang realized that she was actually familiar with that store. Mrs. Holly's was a well-known local store in Vale that often commissioned sewing projects and the like of all kinds: Hell, Yang had spent the better portion of a month's allowance saving up to commission the elderly seamstress to come up with her signature jacket 2 years ago.

"Weren't you supposed to be looking for Blake?" Yang asked condescendingly. What was he doing screwing around in that store?

"Uh, yeah, that's why I went in in the first place," Jacob replied with a hint of snark, "I went in to ask her if she'd seen Blake, and she let me know that she saw Blake pass by here earlier this morning heading back the way of town. After that, she let me know that my order was done." He opened the paper grocery bag to let them see. Yang, curious as ever, leaned in to see what it was.

The midday light cast itself inside the bag to reveal what looked to be a sea of blue, peppered with white stars, and a pattern beside it of red and white stripes. It was folded up, but from what she could tell it was some kind of banner or flag. The markings she didn't recognize at all, but it did make sense considering that he didn't hail from the Kingdoms.

"A flag?" Weiss asked as she also looked down into the bag.

"My people's flag," he corrected. "Old Glory. I wanted something else to remind me of home, and I happened to remember the pattern and dimensions for her, so I put in for a copy of the flag that I can put up on my dorm wall." The smile on his face spoke of a pride that didn't need words to explain.

 _Wow,_ Yang thought, _didn't expect him to be a patriotic type._ "Nice," she hummed as she looked at it.

"Well," Weiss began, "it's certainly... colorful. I can admire the pattern somewhat," she admitted. "But anyways, you said she saw Blake heading back into town?"

"That's what she told me," he replied as he closed up the bag. "Before you ask, it sounds to me that she might be scouring Dust shops for Fang activity. You know how upset she was about them, maybe she wants to confirm it for herself."

"That's a job for the police!" Weiss shouted in aggravation, "Why would she even do that alone!?"

Yang felt a stirring of anger in her blood. Weiss was right; how dare she think only she can go it alone for something so dangerous? She was part of a team, and a team stuck together! If she _did_ encounter the White Fang, she'd be on her own with no backup: she could get hurt, or captured, or even worse!

"Easy, easy!" Jacob pled with the seething heiress, "Mrs. Holly also mentioned that she was with a blonde Faunus boy. A blonde _monkey_ Faunus."

Yang was taken aback. _She's with that stowaway from Friday? Why would she trust some stranger over her own team?_ Yang didn't know whether she was hurt by that or angered by that.

Weiss on the other hand seemed a smidge outraged. "What!? She's with that delinquent ruffian instead of her own team!? Unbelieveable!" Weiss threw up her hands in anger, a vein starting to show along her temple.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger!" Jacob pleaded as the Atlesian heiress looked about ready to skewer him on Myrtenaster.

Yang took a deep breath. If Blake was really with that guy, at the very least she wasn't alone.

Technically, she was alone with a strange guy.

Something about that idea didn't sit well with Yang.

"Weiss, stop threatening him!" She said firmly to her sister's partner. "If she's headed back into town, we may be able to find her more easily with all the eyewitnesses."

That stopped Weiss in her tracks. She sat there and pondered for a second while Jacob took a few steps backwards towards Yang. "You're right," Weiss decided, "if anything the sooner we get there, the better our chances someone has seen her."

The two nodded before they turned around and began walking back towards the Commercial District.

Yang noticed that Jacob wasn't following them. "Jacob," she shouted over her shoulder, "you coming or what?"

"I'll catch up with you guys," he hollered back, as the distance between them grew. "I should find Ruby and let her know as well!"

Yang flashed him a thumbs up. "Sounds good!" was all she was able to holler back before the two blondes rounded the corner of the street.

"Now, time to find a lost kitty," She heard herself mutter as she took off at a jog to follow Weiss.

* * *

...

Jacob could confess many things he had never experienced in his meagre 20 years on Earth.

He had never visited another country on Earth that wasn't an island nation in the Caribbean, even though he lived a day's drive from the Mexican border.

He had never had a girlfriend, and by extension had never even gotten to first base since most girls his age had seen him in a more fraternal light, to such a degree if he wondered if he had been unofficially declared his high school's confidant.

He had never visited any of the major US cities besides the Greater Los Angeles Metro, Las Vegas and Washington DC.

And strangest of all, he had never spent a night on the town with anyone outside of his family at the annual _luminaria_ lighting in Old Town the night of Christmas Eve.

Granted, his idea of a night on the town didn't include staking out a potential terrorist cell of humans with animal features stealing elemental gunpowder with a catgirl and a monkey-boy.

 _Just another 5 months 'til I would be legally able to drink back home,_ he thought to himself as he reflected on his situation, _and it can't come sooner._ _Lord knows I need a shot of bourbon about now. Or rum, rum's good too._

At the moment, Jacob was perusing the streets on the way to the docks to meet up with Blake and Sun. By now the sun was closing in on completely disappearing over the horizon, the long shadows of the various shops and stores casting the street into darkness. The sky overhead had been burning a deep red―his model-painting side had wanted to say it was a Mephiston Red, but it was more akin to an Evil Sunz Scarlet in all truth―giving the overall look of the Wharf District something of a mix between a malevolent look and a romantic look up until about 30 minutes ago. Now, the sky was a blue-violet, the twilight casting the last few rays in hopes that someone may catch them.

 _You've just crossed over into... the Twilight Zone,_ Rod Serling narrated in Jacob's mind. He let slip a bemused chuckle that masked a sudden drop in his mood: he used to love watching _Twilight Zone_ marathons back home on Halloween night, mostly the classics like _The Monsters are Due on Maple Street_ and _Little Girl Lost_ just to name two of his favorites; now he'd never get the chance to see them again.

He let a disdained snort of air out through his nose. _One of these days you really ought to look into Prozac or something,_ he deadpanned to himself.

He rounded the corner of the street, his path now hiding in the shadow of the massive warehouses at the industrial dock. For the most part it seemed as though Sun was on the money: the Atlesian freighter lying in anchor with an all too familiar 8-pointed snowflake on its hull spoke volumes to that. A few dock workers remained within the immediate area, wandering about as they probably were finishing up their shifts and were soon to be on their merry ways home. Part of Jacob―most likely the sado-masochistic part of him that made him play Dark Souls and its ilk―missed being a working stiff. There was something somewhat satisfactory about coming home every week with a paycheck that he earned himself that school―be it college or now Huntsman academia―had a hard time competing with.

After 2 minutes of walking in the shadow of a warehouse, Jacob found his mark. A gate had been left just unlatched enough that no one would see it and he would still be able to get access in. Quickly and quietly as he could he slinked through the gate and shut it behind him before dashing to the wall of the warehouse. He hid behind a generator, hoping no one spotted him during his mad scramble for cover.

He glanced down at his watch, still bearing the date back home. 6:58 PM, Sunday, September 10, 2017.

A tired snort escaped his nose. _Well, even if I'm another reality away it would be in poor taste to not remember tomorrow,_ he thought to himself. _Good thing Old Glory was finished on time._

After making certain the coast was clear, he again scrambled along the back of the building before finally reaching his destination. A spindly, iron-wrought ladder reached up the height of the building and emptied out atop the building, where Blake was no doubt waiting for him and Sun both.

 _Oh great, that's a Health and Safety hazard if ever I've seen one,_ he nervously thought to himself, noting the lack of additional rails outside the basic handrail to help with the climb. Strapping the bag holding the Star Spangled Banner to his belt, he slowly and nervously ascended the ladder, hoping and praying he wouldn't take a long fall and a sudden stop.

Halfway up, a blur of gold fur zoomed by him at ludicrous speeds. Seconds later, Sun Wukong landed right beside him, hanging on with his tail by a random pipe jutting out from the wall.

"Hey, there you are...?" Sun began before trailing off as he had forgotten Jacob's name.

"Let's leave the introductions until I'm off this rickety thing," Jacob said shakily, "As much as I'm not afraid of heights, I really don't like the prospect of staying on this thing for too long."

Sun simply shrugged and launched himself back up the rest of the way, disappearing over the side as he landed on the roof.

Jacob felt a grumble rising in his throat. "Show-off," he huffed as he continued up the ladder.

Finally, Muller reached the top of the ladder, and after taking a few shaky steps onto the roof, plopped down onto his ass with a resounding thud. Sun walked up to him with an amused smile. "So, about that name, sir?" he laughed as he offered his hand to help Muller up.

Jacob felt a bemused smile and a chuckle of his own resound out of his throat. "Jacob. Jacob Muller," he answered, taking Wukong's hand in a firm grip not unlike the handshake in _Predator_ and lifting himself to his feet.

A look of confusion was etched across Sun's face as he processed that name. "Jacob? Doesn't bear any resemblance to any color name I've ever heard," he noticed inquisitively.

"Let's just say that back home we didn't go with the color-name motif thing the kingdoms did after the Great War," Jacob replied. "Sure, some have _colorful_ names," he continued as Sun let out a single sarcastic laugh, "but we've got more of a thing for religious names or names for old dialects. It's a long story, I'll regale you another time."

"Thank you," came the snarky voice of Blake, "I thought you might actually be attempting to reveal us to them."

"Nice to see you too, Belladonna," Jacob replied back as he looked over her way. Sure enough, she was lying belly-down, arms crossed in front of her as she continued to observe the Schnee Dust Company payload. "You'll be happy to know that through a series of misdirections, faux-Scroll calls and various other methods of trickery, your teammates are currently running in circles around Vale looking for you. I on the other hand will not sleep with a clean conscience tonight. Anyway, anything to report?" he asked, taking a knee by her side.

"Nothing yet, though the last few crates are still being unloaded," she answered. Though her voice remained calm, the worried furrow of her brow betrayed her true thoughts.

A shame that her worst fears were soon to be confirmed, Jacob reflected to himself. "It's gonna be a few hours at minimum before they would most likely engage," he announced with a sigh, "so we should for the most part try to keep ourselves occupied to some degree, unless anyone wants to catch 40 winks."

"Well, what do you suppose we do then?" Sun asked.

"I don't know about you guys," Jacob started, "but I'm gonna start rocking out on my music―" his train of thought was halted dead in his tracks as he looked down at his mobile phone.

15% battery. And he had forgotten his battery pack in the race to head out into Vale this morning.

"...Nevermind then," he sighed in defeat. "Not gonna waste the last 15% of my battery life for music, I'm not that music-addicted."

Silence gripped the rooftop for a solid minute as Jacob immediately got up and began to pace about, partially out of boredom and partially out of concern. In a few short hours, they would engage the White Fang, and with them Roman Torchwick, one of the fan favorites among the villains lineup. Just the idea of fighting the White Fang was a rather threatening concept―no doubt even their newest members had more real-deal combat training than even he had managed―but the potential asskicking he could get from Roman would no doubt be the stuff of urban legend.

"Can you _please_ stop pacing," Sun moaned, "you're going and making me nervous."

 _Sounds just like my dad,_ Jacob thought to himself. "Sorry, I tend to pace while I'm thinking. Keeps the brain running on all cylinders, as it were."

"Well, it's not really doing anything for you man. Just sit down and... I don't know, talk or something."

"I would prefer it if there was another set of eyes help me out," Blake hissed.

Jacob found himself rolling his eyes as he returned to a knee beside Blake. For the next hour, they sat in silence mostly, only interrupted by the odd sounds of foot traffic as the last of the dock workers filed out and headed home. Overhead the sky darkened and the fractured moon returned from behind the horizon, casting its shattered light across Vale. The shadows grew long and jagged, the teeth of an animal hiding in the dark to strike. It admittedly did not settle Jacob's mind as he went from kneeling to sitting, to pacing _ad nauseum_ with perhaps an occasional conversation with Sun to break up the silence.

Again, not his idea of a night out on the town.

Part of his mind wandered back to everything leading up to this... how, for the most part, he had been mainly an observer to the story, no different from a poor man's fanfiction if anything, yet at the same time it was perhaps his best method to maintain control of the situation. So long as things adhered to canon for as long as he needed, Pyrrha―and now perhaps even Penny, Ozpin and Amber― could be spared a premature death. By good fortune things had remained canonical thus far, not considering that the last 3 months had consisted of slowly building his friendships with RWBY and JNPR, and with the events presiding thus far, events were playing out right on time. Everything thus far had been going perfectly well, but even Jacob knew that any and all plans fall apart upon first contact with the enemy.

The enemy... Cinder and Company. The White Fang. Roman and Neo.

 _Salem._

Just now it occurred to him that she and he were both in the same reality now. The... queen, mother, whatever she was, of all Grimm as out there, plotting, scheming, conniving with her lackeys on how to bring Remnant to despair.

Despair. Something he had known in the past perhaps one too many times to be healthy.

Jacob mind returned to the here and now as he realized that Sun had vanished. _Probably looking to grab those apples,_ he remembered. Admittedly, his eyelids were starting to grow heavy despite the earliness of the night. The sleep schedule he was on for Beacon must have finally adjusted his circadian rhythm, giving his night owl habits the metaphorical boot.

He took a knee beside Blake again, and decided to run through his ammo for the evening: Knowing full well what was happening tonight, he had extra magazines for both of his pistols aplenty. In total he counted 20 magazines―10 a pistol fortuitously―each one loaded with basic Lightning Dust rounds. For the most part, he was content with sticking to the basic Dust types and getting an idea of how they work before he moved on to the more advanced types like Gravity Dust or the newly-coveted Plasma Dust rounds he had heard of from Nora in the aftermath of his duel with Weiss.

Oh yeah, Plasma Dust. Word was that it was only just out of the prototype phase and was only just starting to get into circulation, but it sounded like it was essentially akin to the Plasma weaponry of the Imperium: armor-breakers designed for the heavier-duty Grimm like King Taijitus and Goliaths.

Unfortunately that meant it would probably be a high-priority target for the White Fang.

Reaching into his back pocket, he located his other tools for the evening: his stiletto pocket knife and a trio of IEDs.

Hey, he promised not to use them in sparring, he never promised that he wouldn't use them in the field.

After making sure that the IEDs were secured and safe―lest he wish to turn into Remnant's first suicide bomber―he popped a clip into both pistols and chambered a round each.

Only he didn't realize that the sound of the slides chambering the .380 and 9mm rounds into Titan and Cadia respectively had snapped Blake out of her dozing stupor. She started, looking like she was about ready to spring up and arch her back like a goddamned alley cat before realizing what was going on. "Oh, hey. Why are you loading up your pistols?" she asked with a yawn.

"Something tells me we're gonna be in for a rough night," was his only reply. He looked down only to see a face of concern from Blake return his gaze. "Sorry," he quickly apologized, "Knowing my luck tonight's not gonna end pretty."

Just then, Sun hopped up over the side of the building, carrying with him a few apples.

 _And so it begins..._

"Did I miss anything?" Wukong asked.

"Not really. They've offloaded the crates from the boat. Now they're just sitting there."

"Cool." He held out an apple to Jacob, saying, "I stole you guys some food!"

Normally, Jacob wasn't the type for taking stolen food, but he hadn't eaten since he had grabbed a cold-cut sandwich for lunch some 7 hours ago. He took the apple and quickly bit down, letting the sweet juices roll down his throat. "Thank you," he replied to Sun, "I haven't had anything since lunch."

"Do you always break the law without giving a second thought?" Blake asked with an arched brow.

"Hey, weren't you in a cult or something?"

Sun only received a death glare from Blake and aside glance from Jacob.

"Okay, too soon!"

Suddenly the wind kicked up from behind them as a plane descended from out of nowhere, searchlights flashing about to clear a landing zone. A Bullhead, Jacob realized it was: the impractical bubble-shaped body, the unfeasible VTOL engines, what else could it be besides the Metal Wailord as he had once called it? _"A Bullhead, hah! Give me an Imperial Valkyrie or a Pelican Dropship over that thing any day,"_ he distinctly remembered saying in an admittedly-juvenile Reddit argument once.

As the vessel landed on the concrete, the back ramp opened up with a sharp hiss, and a lone figure clad in black and white stepped out into the cooling night air.

A figure with a red insignia of a snarling wolf and a clawmark on the back.

"Oh no..."

"Is that them?" Sun asked, squinting at them.

Jacob looked down as Blake stared intently at the symbol, as if trying to mentally will it to change to something she didn't recognize. But it was exactly as she thought. "Yes," she sighed in defeat, "...It's them."

Down below, Jacob could barely make out the chatter as more and more White Fang grunts filed out of the Bullhead and began to work at breaking into the Schnee Dust crates.

"You really didn't think they were behind it, did you?"

"No," Blake replied to Sun, "I think deep down I knew. I just didn't want to be right." Her had balled into a fist as the two men watched on as she started to sink into despair.

"Hey! What's the holdup!?"

Jacob's heart skipped a beat. _There's the magnificent bastard..._

Coming down from the ramp of the Bullhead, came a relatively tall git―6'3" if he remembered the wiki correctly―clad in a red-lined suit of white and black slacks with black loafers. He was skinny as a rail, and had some rather effeminate features: heavy black eyeliner, long eyelashes, long carrot-top bangs covering his left eye, all set beneath a black and green bowler hat in a style that easily reminded Jacob of _A Clockwork Orange._

"We're not exactly the most inconspicuous bunch of thieves at the moment," Roman Torchwick fumed to his subordinates, "so why don't you animals try to pick up the pace?"

 _That's racist,_ CinemaSins Jeremy again quipped in Jacob's mind.

As they continued to watch the heist in progress, Blake mused to herself, "This isn't right. The White Fang would never work with a Human. Especially not one like that."

"Could be the sign of some new coalition going on," Jacob hissed through his teeth, "and the implications of _that_ are not comforting."

"So what do we do now?" Sun asked as he joined them in watching.

"There's too many for us three to take on," Jacob decided against his instinct to adhere to canon and turned to look down at his Scroll, "I'm calling for backup; maybe Weiss and Yang are somewhere near―"

"Hey, what are you doing?!"

Jacob was unable to key Yang's number as Sun's cry of alarm alerted him to Blake's impulsive charge-in. Looking over the side to the ground, he saw Blake land on the ground in a three-point superhero landing before taking off in a cold, calculated and yet still furious sprint to get into position, ducking in between containers with feline grace and stealth.

"Dang, she's good," Sun admired her from afar.

"Yeah, well she's lacking the 9 extra lives a cat's got last I checked," Jacob snarked, "So kitty only needs to fuck up once to get a one-way trip to the Pearly Gates." He turned to Sun and ordered, "Get to a high ground position overlooking her, if things get pear-shaped, drop down and start fucking them up."

Sun, whom was still acting a smidge surprised from Jacob's sailor mouth, simply asked, "Wait, what are you gonna do?"

"I've got two things to do," Jacob answered, holding up his Scroll. "One, call in for backup. And two, I'll provide fire support and work on the grunts, if not Torchwick himself. Now go!" and with that, Sun sprung from the rooftop and landed with ease atop the nearest crate, slinking through them like the monkey-kid he was. In the meanwhile, Jacob quickly punched in Yang's Scroll number, hoping to get through.

 _Damn,_ he thought to himself as he heard the familiar ding of a voicemail, _not picking up._

"What the- Oh, for f-"

"Nobody move!"

Jacob turned to look down at the scene: Sure enough, Blake had unsheathed Gambol Shroud's blade and now held Torchwick hostage as the White Fang goons encircled her with their guns trained on her head. Frantically, Jacob turned his attention back to the Scroll and dialed up Weiss' number.

After a few seconds, an answer. _"Hello? Jacob?"_

"Weiss! Oh, thank God I got to you," she sighed in relief. "Listen, I found Blake earlier this evening, she was doing a stakeout at the industrial pier where your Company was unloading a huge shipment, do you know the one?"

 _"Yeah, I'd heard about it earlier today,"_ she replied, _"But why is she there?"_

"She was trying to scope out the Fang, and it turns out we were right, it _IS_ The White Fang behind these robberies, but they're in on it with Torchwick!"

He turned around and was greeted by the sight of the massive Mexican standoff starting to close in on its fever pitch. Pretty soon, Dust was going to fly.

"Listen, Weiss! Get Yang, get Ruby, get whoever you can and get here as soon as possible, Blake just engaged the White Fang and I need to help her! Get here now!" And with that, he hit the hang up button and dashed over to the edge of the building.

By now, Blake had just taken her free hand and pull loose the bow concealing her ears, showing them to her former cohorts in an attempt to sway them to her side.

"Brothers of the White Fang! Why are you aiding this scum?"

The White Fang members began to waver, no doubt some of them recognizing her as one of their former senior officers. Several began to lower their rifles in hesitation.

Meanwhile, Jacob was weighing the pros and cons of either staying up top or getting to ground level and engaging at point blank. After a few seconds of deliberation, he made his decision.

"Oh, this is gonna hurt like a motherfucker..."

With a deep breath and a quick prayer in his head, he leaped over the side to the ground below. For a few seconds, his brain thought back to his trips to Disneyland, remembering his rides on the Tower of Terror and how accustomed he had become to the sensation of falling.

What he wasn't accustomed to was the impact of hitting the ground at the speed of gravity's pull. He managed to do a superhero landing of his own akin to Iron Man, but even with his just-recovered body and Aura pool combined, the pain of the impact still echoed up his leg and his fist like he had just just punched a tank. Granted, technically he had punched Remnant, but semantics would have to be left for another time. With a barely concealed groan, he got to his feet and began to circle around the standoff, drawing both pistols so to begin raining hell on them.

"Oh, kid, didn't you get the memo?" He heard Torchwick snidely ask.

"What are you talking about?" Blake demanded just as Jacob reached a vantage point from where he could watch and engage. He took a knee and snapped off the safeties.

A part of him was realizing that he was about to enter a firefight. Him, in a firefight, in real life... sorta.

But that same part of him suddenly realized that he'd be firing on flesh-and-blood people. His stomach started knotting itself a little at the prospect.

If he's unlucky, he may have to kill someone tonight.

"The White Fang and I are going in on a joint business venture together!"

Gambol Shroud's blade pushed farther into Torchwick's neck. "Tell me what it is or I'll put an end to your little operation," Blake threatened.

Suddenly a pair of Bullheads zoomed by overhead, coming to a hover directly overhead of the group, Jacob noting the mounted guns on these ones.

"I wouldn't exactly call it a _little_ operation," Roman deadpanned over the roar of the engines.

 _That's the cue for the fight to start,_ Jacob remembered. _Now comes the time for action._ His arms were shaking as the adrenaline prematurely coursed through his veins.

He took a long, deep breath, and his mind ran back to all the pre-battle cries he had ever heard, fictitious or otherwise.

He finally settled on one that felt... right for the occasion, what with him striking from the shadows. Just then, an explosion rocked the ground beneath him; Roman had fired off Melodic Cudgel at Blake's feet, signalling the start of the fight.

 _Let's rock,_ Jacob's mind rattled off as he felt a vicious snarl overcome his face. He rounded the corner and drew his guns, growling beneath his teeth the cry of the 19th Legion.

"Victorus Aut Mortis!"

* * *

A massive boom rocked the night air from behind her and Penny. Ruby spun on the spot to see a massive smoke cloud rising up from the area of the industrial docks.

"Oh, no..."

 ** _Ring-ring-ring!_**

Ruby's Scroll frantically called her attention. She picked it up and looked at the caller ID: It was Weiss.

"Weiss," she answered, "what's going on?"

* * *

It was absolute chaos at the docks.

Not Chaos, the proper noun, chaos the idea. All around him, White Fang members scurried after Blake as she retreated from the blasts of Melodic Cudgel. Meanwhile, a small crate of Dust had exploded on impact with one of his shots, sending up a wall of fire off to the side that appeared to have knocked out or even outright _killed_ several other Fang grunts. Jacob had, at first been shocked by the damage that he had dealt― _Did I just fucking do that, holy shit!_ ―but he quickly snapped out of it when a trio of rounds had pinged off the side of the crate he was standing beside.

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty..." Torchwick mused as he followed after Blake.

 _Time to get acquainted,_ Jacob mused to himself as he zipped and darted through the shipping containers, only to roll out from behind them 10 feet directly in front of Roman and immediately begin firing.

Suffice it to say, Roman was pretty quick with Melodic Cudgel, spinning the cane-cannon about with the speed of an Apache propellor and deflecting most of the shots. The few that made it past pinged off his Aura and only made him recoil slightly.

"Well now," Roman said as Jacob halted his fire, "Another snot-nosed kid getting in the way."

Jacob felt his blood pressure jump at that one. "Do you not fucking see this facial hair?" He seethed before changing Cadia into her cutlass form and charging.

Admittedly, his first and worst mistake.

Immediately, the two clashed, but unlike Jaune's more normal, rough-and-tumble sword-and-shield play that Jacob had at least trained somewhat against, Roman's style with Melodic Cudgel was more like fencing with extremely distracting flourishes. His cleaving swings left him wide open, and Roman―ever the opportunist he was―was taking advantage of that. Jacob received a battering from Roman while he only got a few swings in that succeeded in making contact, and even then Roman would successfully block the hit.

"Man," Roman cackled, "you are an absolute barbarian with that thing, kid! You sure you weren't trained to swing an axe, 'cause you are _horrible_ at this swordfighting thing."

Jacob grunted heavily as blade and cane locked together. This fight was already wearing him out, even more so that his fight with Weiss. "Funny you should talk about a tree-chopping instrument," he huffed through his breathing, "Because Cadia's got some solid teeth on her!"

 _ **click!**_

 _And with an_ audible _schwing,_ the razor-sharp teeth of Cadia locked Melodic Cudgel deep in her bite before yanking the cane out of Roman's hand as Jacob revved the engine and tossed the cane aside. Jacob leveled Titan and squeezed off another 3 rounds, but Roman was insanely quick, ducking below the shots as they streaked over his head by a hair's breadth and diving for the cane.

Instead of re-engaging, Jacob decided to make like a Genestealer and slip back into the shadows, giving him a moment to reload as Roman jumped back to his feet to discover his opponent was no longer there.

Unfortunately for the crook, Jacob had left a Dust-infused gift for Roman at his feet. The IED exploded at Roman's feet, masking the area in a quick blanket of steam that held long enough for Jacob to hide even farther in amidst the shadows.

"Well, well," the criminal mastermind mused, "looks like we've got a sneaky snake on our hands. I've been meaning to beat something to death for a while now," he snarled as he moved closer to Jacob's position.

Just then, a banana peel landed on top of his hat. Looking up, Jacob saw Sun coming down from atop a container, landing on Roman with an audible thud and rolling off of him.

"Leave them alone," Sun growled at Torchwick.

Above him, however, The Bullheads opened up to reveal more White Fang members, whom jumped and flipped their way to the ground in an overly-flashy style that reminded Jacob of that stupid Cirque du Soleil in Vegas. _Can't people just drop from on high without flipping like a Olympic diver?_ he mentally bemoaned. Before he even had time to react, Sun was surrounded by Fang goons.

"You're not the brightest banana in the bunch, are you, kid?" Roman snarked.

With that, the White Fang charged at the monkey Faunus, mostly bearing crude cutlasses. But Sun was more than capable to taking them on, ducking and weaving his way through the attacks and even socking a few in the jaw with his fists and kicks. With another kick and a roll, he reached into his back pocket.

In one solid twirl, Jingu Bang and Ruyi Bang revealed itself at full size; 4 red and gold flintlocks latched together by the inner two's barrels and the outer two's grips―as well as a pair of chains between grips―to form a bo staff.

The word that came to mind in Jacob's head was... _Awesome._

Sun continued to beat on White Fang members while Jacob struggled to make out what was going on overall. Sure, he could make out some details, but even with his eyes adjusting to the night, he wasn't exactly blessed with night vision.

But he did notice the two Fang goons with rifles lining up a shot at Sun.

Jacob's hands reacted of their own accord.

Time slowed as Titan and Cadia lined up their own shots.

He squeezed the triggers, and the flash of Lightning Dust told him all he needed to know.

Both shots made contact with their targets' heads, knocking both to the ground.

Jacob grinned as he thought he had downed them before he rushed off to find Blake.

"He's mine!"

Well, that wasn't hard.

Sun had just blocked an explosive Fire Dust shot from Roman, covering their immediate area in a quick smokescreen. From overhead, Blake careened into Roman and began to attack, using her Semblance to become a blur of afterimages, Melodic Cudgel meeting Gambol Shroud in a flurry of swings and sparks. But for every attack, Roman countered it with equal force, even the attacks from behind and above.

 _This level of combat's probably only achieved when you've completely mastered your Aura,_ Jacob reasoned.

But just as Roman dealt with Blake, knocking her to the ground with a couple counterattacks, Sun jumped in and detached the center of Ruyi and Jingu Bang, now becoming two flintlock- _nunchaku_. Soon, Sun's twin weapons were blasting at Roman, trying to break through his guard in a fiery storm of red and gold.

Jacob had to admit that was his favorite part of watching _Black and White,_ just how awesome the flurry of shots was to see in person was worth a thousand words to him.

Suddenly, his observation was cut short as... _something_ rang out in the back of his head.

It felt like it said, "Duck, dummy."

Just as he did so, a massive burst of Dust shots zoomed by over his head by a fraction of an inch. He spun around and unloaded two full clips into the perpetrator, catching what was clearly a White Fang goon center mass and flinging them back against a crate with a painful-sounding thud. There was an audible female groan as the goon slumped to the ground, hidden from the moon's light in the shadow of the industrial containers. Jacob felt his stomach drop out for a second as he thought he may have hit too hard with that barrage, ignoring the massive crashing sound behind him.

"Hey!"

Jacob's head snapped upwards and back towards the fight. Opposite side of the fight from him, atop the roof where they had begun their stakeout, Ruby and Penny were standing overlooking the battlefield, which seemed to have take a turn in Roman's favor: a shipping container had been dropped and it appeared as though both Blake and Sun had ducked out of the way, but Sun was currently looking down the business end of Melodic Cudgel.

"Well, hello, Red!" Torchwick maliciously crooned, "Isn't it past your bedtime?"

"Ruby," he distantly heard Penny ask, "are these people your friends?"

"Penny, get back!" Ruby warned, turning her attention away from the crime lord.

Long enough, as it was, for him to fire a shot and send the young silver-eyed Huntress screaming backwards.

Roman let out a Saturday-Morning professional-level evil laugh at his attack on the young girl. Penny walked up to the edge, an angry look on her face, before turning back as Ruby warned her.

 _Penny,_ he remembered her saying, _wait, stop!_

 _Oh, here it comes,_ Jacob realized as he scrambled to swap places amidst the containers.

And off in the distance, he heard her say it:

"Don't worry, Ruby. I'm combat ready!"

From behind her back, a single sword slithered out―held aloft by steel wires she could control―That blossomed outwards into a steel flower of an additional 9 blades. Leaping from the rooftop with the swords acting as wings, she landed with ease, taking out another 2 Fang operatives on the way down and then sending another into a wall with a sweeping strike, creating a barrier of spinning steel before leaping over a goon with her swords in tow, and finally making a wheel that she threw to knock even more Faunus off their feet.

it was like watching a machine go at it: She was like a Terminator, a walking wall of death and robotics inside a synthetic skin, a... P-800 if you will.

Another 3 Bullheads few overhead, firing into her but failing to connect as she spun her blades and formed a shield from the swords. Penny launched another two swords out into the warehouse behind her, yanking her along for the ride. She came to a grinding halt before spinning her blades into a neat forward-facing circle. Taking a knee, Penny summoned forth a massive green ball of energy―reminding Jacob way too much of the Death Star from _Star Wars_ ―and let it fly forward in a massive green energy beam that sliced two of the Bullheads and sent the pilots careening to the ground

 _.._. _Awesome~,_ Jacob thought to himself as he pumped his left arm in excitement.

That same feeling from before suddenly returned, screaming the same as before, except from the left side. He rolled just as another volley came at him, forcing him to go to ground and hide behind the corner lest his Aura―and then head―get shredded by the bastards. Reloading Titan and transforming Cadia into her chainsword form, he opted to go the route of The Blood God this go around, roaring and charging into melee. 4 Fang goons returned his charge, two of his shots slamming into one and sending him tumbling to the ground. Another one was sent to the ground with an impact in his Aura field over his forehead.

But Jacob was not anticipating the last one―no bigger than himself really, lanky but clearly packing some muscle―to tackle him like a linebacker. In an instant, the two were grappling, Jacob revving Cadia in an attempt to scare the Faunus into backing off. The only thing it did manage to do was piss the Faunus off enough to toss Cadia aside, leaving him without his main weapon. The hand he held Titan in was pinned to the ground, though that didn't last long as the goon knocked Titan ount of his hand and just out of his reach.

The Faunus' hand snuck back behind him, and produced a wicked looking dagger; Jacob's subconscious would have called it a "Your Eternal Reward" with how the blade reminded him of Jafar's dagger in _Aladdin_.

Jacob's hand came up in the knick of time, catching the boy's wrist as he brought down the knife over Jacob's heart. For as scrawny as he was, this kid was unusually strong, as Jacob felt his strength slip once or twice in the struggle. His other hand had latched onto the goon's preventing it from coming to the other's aid to skewer his heart.

His grip slipped. the dagger dropped mere inches from his chest, the heart beating below its piercing gaze thundering in fear of its death knells.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Titan, just within the edge of his reach. If he could just reach it...

Jacob's strength was failing ever more so... The dagger poked at his skin, but he didn't feel that same sensation as he normally did when he had his Aura up. Did he take a shot or two when he wasn't paying attention? Did Aura fail after gaining combat fatigue? He didn't know and he didn't have time to think about it.

Was this to be his end? Did all his time training end up for naught?

Was his quest already coming to a close?

Was he about to fail Pyrrha?

And at that thought, the images came back.

 _The arrow, piercing her heart._

 _The strangled gasps as her lungs and heart failed._

 _The callousness of her incineration._

 _The image of Jaune, training like a dog by her instruction, recorded and brought to bear from beyond the grave._

A wild, frothing anger seeped into his heart at first.

But it soon careened into his mind.

 _I WILL NOT DIE HERE!_

His legs thrashed wildly, his body strained against his attacker, holding both arms back with the force of an elephant and the grip of a steel vice.

Finally, he felt his knee make contact with something. Judging by the cries of pain, he had found the babymakers. The goon's strength wavered, giving Jacob the opportunity to reach into hi pocket and snapped loose the blade of his pocket knife. Without a second to hesitate, he swung ferociously and buried the 5" stiletto blade into the goon's side, freeing his hand and giving him a chance to grab Titan. His mind thundered its orders; Survival was being counted in milliseconds at the moment, everyone wasted meant the difference between him living and dying.

Without a second thought, he whipped the barrel underneath the goon's stomach, in the same motion angling it over his sternum.

Time screamed to a halt, and he pulled the trigger.

Titan roared with the ferocity of a lion.

The goon stiffened... but he didn't fly back.

Jacob's mind begged the question of what was going on... until her felt it.

 _Drip. Drip. Drip._

Warmth.

The smell of iron.

something warm and liquid over his hand.

This goon didn't have an Aura. He was just some Faunus that joined up with the White Fang. They didn't even bother to train him, to awaken his Aura and they just sent him out like cannon fodder.

And now he was bleeding out.

"Shit, shit, shit," Jacob hissed as the Faunus began to go limp. He rolled the two of them over, holding the goon in his arms. The blood seeped from the wound, a gaping hole over his diaphragm―if he remembered anatomy correctly, judging by the fact that a morbid observation of his noted the edge of a rib poking out of the offending wound―and soaked his white vest in crimson.

Though he was no medical expert, he remembered that the best thing to do in regards to a bleeding would was to apply pressure, as much as you could onto the wound to slow the bleeding long enough for clots to start forming on the wound.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Hesitantly, he pressed down on the wound, only to receive a pained wheeze from the thug. "Easy, easy," he shakily said, "If you struggle you'll bleed out, and you're not bleeding out on me tonight." Somewhere in the background, a massive explosion rocked the battlefield: Penny had just downed the other 3 Bullheads that came in, and Roman was escaping.

"Please... gods― _Aargh!_ It hurts..."

Jacob felt the blood drain from his face.

That was a kid's voice.

His free hand quickly but shakily removed the Grimm-styled mask from over the face of the goon.

It was a boy, a fennec Faunus if the massive ears were any indication, sky blue eyes and a mop of dirty blonde hair.

Not a man like him... a boy.

A boy who was probably no older than Ruby.

No older than his own little brother.

The look in his eyes was the most genuine terror Jacob had ever seen in his life. It was a primal panic that only the wounded and dying would ever truly know.

"Easy, easy," he said, trying his best to ignore the hot liquid bleeding out of his torso. "You're-you're gonna be alright―"

"Please," the kid cried through tears of pain, a small and fragile voice, "I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die―"

"Shh, shh, calm down," Jacob hissed in panic, "If you panic your heart will beat faster and you'll lose blood faster." Part of his mind berated him fiercely―like _Hell_ that would calm the kid down!

The kid's fearful cries began to weaken. The kid was dying in his arms.

"Hey," Jacob panicked, "Kid, look at me, look at me! What's your name, son?"

"...Ferris..." the kid mumbled tiredly. He was fading fast.

"Ferris, like the word for iron, right? Good name, good name, I used to know a Ferris, bit of a slacker but he was a good kid at heart... Ferris? Ferris!?"

The kid wasn't responding. His pulse was faintly there, and his breathing was ragged, but he was no longer conscious.

"HELP!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, "I NEED A MEDIC OVER HERE NOW!"

Seconds later, the sound of high heels rounded the corner, followed by a string of horrified gasps. He looked up to see a horrified Blake, a shocked Sun and Penny, who seemed to take a second to process what she was seeing before the horror began to set in her innocent mind.

"Goddamnit," he roared as he felt panicky tears begin to roll down his cheeks, "Somebody help me get a tourniquet on him NOW!"

* * *

Blake felt unusually numb by the time the police and ambulances arrived. Between the tire of battle, the lack of substantial food for a few hours, and... _that,_ she felt like she could fall asleep and not wake up for a week. The hot coffee offered by the cops helped a little, but it wasn't enough.

By now, the last few White Fang members were getting hauled off in police cruisers to be booked at the station downtown, and from the looks of it there were a lot more than she initially thought there would be. Strangely, while most that she and Sun had taken out were treated for only some minor bumps and bruises, the ones under Jacob had been... well, not as fine.

Two had bruised ribs from the high impact shots he had unloaded into them, another one―a girl Blake recognized from her time in the White Fang―had been knocked unconscious by his attack and had suffered a minor concussion, another two who _should_ have been concussed by his attack received only minor bumps and bruises, and then...

Then there was the fennec Faunus boy.

Sun later informed Blake that he had to stop Ruby from rushing in beside them, knowing full well what that sight could do to a kid like her. Blake, sadly, did not have that luxury; she had been there on more than one occasion when another Faunus was struck down during a riot... sometimes for good.

And what's worse, was that she had to experience that feeling all over again.

The boy had passed on to The Hereafter on the ambulance ride to the hospital.

Of course, he was a local boy, and the family had been alerted much to their sorrow. Turns out he had been reported missing for 3 months. Well, now they knew where he had been, at least. Gods, even to her that sounded a callous thought.

Jacob had turned off in the aftermath of learning the news. Everyone who's fought a lethal battle turns off when they realized they've ended another life.

It probably didn't help to know the kid was 15... the same age as her fearless leader, whom Sun had not told about the boy's end.

And Penny... seemed to take it much better than most. Then again, that girl was weirder than most by a long shot.

Just then, she spotted her other teammates coming up the street at a brisk jog, both of them sporting worried faces. _Oh no,_ Blake moaned mentally, not now. She glanced over to Jacob, who was now leaning against a wooden crate, head downcast, sitting on the cold cobblestone, and holding a barely-touched mug of hot chocolate, his hands still coated with the boy's now-dried blood. His eyes were red and puffy from crying, but looking into them he seemed to be... not there, really. Yang rushed over to him, taking a knee beside him and hugging him close. It seemed to snap him out of his funk enough to give her a fierce hug back, as if he were clinging to her for dear life.

Meanwhile, Weiss stopped to look forlornly at him before turning her attention back to the Faunus girl. _Here we go,_ Blake sighed. Just then, Ruby―who was still unaware―came up to her partner and began to frantically vouch for her.

"Look Weiss, it's not what you think," she began, "she explained the whole thing. See, she doesn't actually have a bow, she has kitty ears and they're actually kind of cute..."

Weiss simply ignored her and approached Blake with a blank face.

"Weiss," Blake began as she stared down her teammate, "I want you to know that I'm no longer associated with the White Fang. Back when I was with the-"

Weiss held up a hand and said, "Stop! Do you have any idea of how long we've been searching for you? Twelve hours. That means I've had twelve hours to think about this. And in that twelve hours, I've decided..."

Yang and Jacob looked on, the worry in their eyes visible, even through Jacob's misted pair.

"I don't care."

That threw Blake for a loop. "You don't care?"

"You said you're not one of them anymore, right?"

"No, I-I haven't been since I was younger-"

Weiss silenced her again. "Ah-bah-bah-bah-bah! I don't want to hear it. All I want to know is that the next time something this big comes up... you'll come to your teammates. And not... someone else," she finished as she looked to Sun and then Jacob.

Blake thought she wouldn't cry tonight. Turns out she was just waiting until she felt some relief. "Of course," she agreed as she wiped a tear from her eye.

For a second, everything was quiet. Yang was still hugging one out with Jacob, who seemed to be doing at least a little better than previously, when Ruby quietly piped up with a, "Yeah! Team RWBY is back together!" as she raised her fists in excitement.

And then, a genuine chuckle from Jacob. A good sign, if anything, even if he still had a tear here and there.

"I'm still not quite sure about how I feel about you!" Weiss immediately turned and pointed to Sun, who simply chuckled nervously.

At that moment, Blake and Ruby both realized that someone had disappeared on them. "Hey," Ruby said, "Where's Penny?"

But they were interrupted as a series of cries reached their ears.

"Hey, guys!"

"Jacob!"

"BLAAAKE!"

"Nora, wait up!"

Without a second to realize, Blake found herself tackled by a 5'2" wall of pink and black clothes and ginger hair.

"Nora," she began as she tried to recover from the glomp, "I'm fine, easy,"

"You had us all worried sick! What were you thinking woman!?" She cried as she shook Blake by the shoulders before Ren stopped her with a simple grip on her shoulder.

"Nora," he began, "Blake's been through enough trauma today; I don't think she wants to add brain trauma to that list."

But as the two partners bickered like a married couple, Blake's vision was more focused on the other half. Jaune and Pyrrha had taken a spot next to Yang and Jacob, both kneeling beside the boy. She couldn't make out what they were saying over Nora and Ren, but she could read their body language pretty well.

When Jacob showed them his hands, both recoiled in shock before looking to one another. Jacob began to cry again, though now she could hear his sorrowful blubbers.

"...That boy's dead because of me," he began to say as he continued to cry, "He died in my fucking arms.. the last person he saw was his Goddamned killer... He didn't even have his Aura and I just... I just shot hi-him..." and with that, his speech gave way to barely-contained sobs.

Pyrrha immediately closed the distance to him and hugged him tightly with Yang, shushing him in an attempt to calm him. Soon after, Jaune joined in too, followed by Weiss and Ren. Nora let go of Blake and soon joined in as well, and Sun attempted to get in before evidently deciding that he probably wasn't welcome in the group just yet... even if Blake would vouch for him.

And poor Ruby had only just realized what happened before she ran to him and joined in the hug, crying with him as the severity of what happened finally kicked in.

Ruby, who was no older than the boy that Jacob killed.

The White Fang were willing to send young children to their deaths now... and she felt disgusted at who was no doubt behind this.

 _Gods damn you, Adam..._

Blake simply sat and watched as the stars shined overhead, and the wide smile of the fractured moon grinned over the hugging teens and their 9th compatriot.

* * *

Vulkan He'Stan breathed a heavy sigh as he looked out over the city. "A shame that even so far from home there is still such mindless bloodshed," he mused mainly to himself, "You'd swear that the Blood God still follows us wherever we go."

"We were warriors, Vulkan," one of his guests, mentioned, "We were built to make war for our people."

Vulkan continued to gaze out over the city from the hotel penthouse his old teammates had rented out, "for the Vytal Festival" as they had claimed to the bellhops. While it was true that they all had come to watch the Festival as well, it was his call that had brought all but one of them to this room. Their last member said he would arrive today on the Schnee freighter that brought all that Dust to Vale's shores, but he had yet to call in. A storm was heading in from the sea, Vulkan noticed, and would probably arrive in two or three hours from now, carrying with it a cascade of rain to wash away the blood spilled this night.

"But that's not who we are anymore," Vulkan added, turning around to look at his battle-brothers. "We protect people against the Grimm and the true evil-doers out there, we don't mindlessly slaughter heretics anymore. Or has some of your hypnotherapy come back from the grave to incite a crusade for The Emperor?"

There they were, two of his closest friends on Remnant, staring at him intensely as he bemoaned the news: Lisa Lavender had been the one to report of the fighting that broke out at the docks this evening, and while names hadn't been released, Vulkan had heard word from Ozpin of the details left out.

Currently, all three were sitting in the living room equivalent of the penthouse, the other two sitting down in plush seats as they listened to their team leader.

To his left, sat Gabriel Angelos, former Chapter Master of the Blood Ravens and Vulkan's Huntsman Academy partner, still clad in the same outfit as yesterday.. and the day before.

And to his right sat Titus Ultramar, Former Second Company Captain of the Ultramarines, with his wife of 10 years, former _Astra Militarum_ 2nd Lieutenant Miranda Nero of the 203rd Cadian Regiment.

Gabriel bolted to his feet at Vulkan's remark, visibly fuming at it. "You know that is not something to joke about," Angelos growled from behind his teeth.

"Who said anything about it being a joke, Angelos?" Vulkan replied back.

"Brothers, brothers! There is no need to fight," Titus calmly reassured, "Not tonight at least." Titus tenderly moved his hand to stroke his wife's hair―even now it was scary how a former Marine could move so gently―as he remained in his own day attire: a pair of deep blue, well-kept jean pants, black combat boots and a navy-blue polo shirt emblazoned with the easily-recognized white Omega of the Ultramarines chapter badge across the chest pocket. In stark contrast, his wife had already taken to more comfortable attire for the evening, sporting a pink robe and fuzzy slippers over a white undershirt and sleep pants as she slept beside her husband.

The Salamander and the Blood Raven stared at the Ultramarine for a few seconds before looking back to one another and both backing off.

"Sorry about that, Gabriel," Vulkan offered in apology.

Gabriel sighed deeply. "It's alright Vulkan," he assured, "I've just been... tense as of late. Things feel as they are soon coming to a head."

"I know what you mean―"

 **KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!**

Only one person would smack a door like that. Vulkan quickly moved to the door, but stopped before asking through the door their team's question to prove their identity.

"For whom did we fight?"

After a second, the answer came from a gruff, heavily accented voice.

"For Russ, and the All-Father."

Vulkan grinned as he opened the door. "Logan Grimnar," he laughed mirthfully, "as I live and breathe, come in, come in!"

With a boisterous laugh and a massive step, in came the Great Wolf of the _Vlka Fenryka_ ―Space Wolves as it would have been said in Remnant Gothic―Logan Grimnar. Just as he was back in the Imperium, he was the eldest amongst their motley crew, though here it was but by an extra decade and a half rather than 2 or more centuries, putting him around the normal human age of his mid-40s while the rest of the team were just arriving at 3 decades biologically.

How strange it was to have your biological clock reset after centuries of service as an Astartes.

As befitting of a Wolf of Fenris, he stood fairly tall at around 6'7", standing higher than even Vulkan without either of them in armor. His hair, while still the dirty blonde found amidst many of the Sons of Leman Russ, had begun to dull with age, and an odd silver strand could be seen under the right light. He sported a thick beard that looked to be well-kempt if anything, though he hadn't knotted it like was seen amidst most bearded Space Wolves. His hardened, strong features were beginning to show signs of age, mainly in the form of the odd wrinkle here and there, though the strong chin and brow still made him look like he would happily introduce you to a Power Fist if you ticked him off. Besides that, he was clad in a fur vest of―what else―wolf pelts, obviously a more decorative version of his usual thick coats and cape that he wore with his armor, along with a well-worn pair of jean pants and a blue-grey t-shirt, sporting the mark of the Wolf that Stalks Between the Stars, a great wolf rearing up and bearing its claws and fangs.

But right now, he was sporting a jovial smile that brightened the room, showing off his lengthened canines. Of course, one would anticipate a lupine Faunus such as Logan would sport far more obvious signs of being a Faunus, but it would seem that The Emperor had been in the mood for a good laugh that day to make something about a Space Wolf _sneaky_.

"Vulkan," the Great Wolf cheerfully laughed with an accent not unlike that of the ancient Cottsmen of Holy Terra, "It's too damn good to see ya again, you bleedin' pyromaniac!"

The two came in for a massive hug, as the long-time friends shared a laugh at their return. After a second or so of holding the hug, they broke loose as the other two Astartes roused from their chairs to meet the Great Wolf.

"Titus, there ya are, my boy!"

Titus, ever the son of Guilliman, first bowed low with his hands making the sign of the Aquila before hugging the Fenrisian tightly. "It's great to see you again, Logan!" Titus laughed.

With a firm and brotherly smack on the shoulder, Logan ended the hug before turning to the still groggy but happily-smiling Lieutenant. "Lady Mira," The Great Wolf began with a smile, taking a knee before the Guardswoman, "it is always a pleasure to see your smiling face again."

Mira stifled a giggle as she replied, "No need to kneel before a humble Guardsman, Great Wolf, but the gesture is always accepted." She walked up to him and lunged into hug of her own.

"Oh―ho, easy with the old man, Mira!" Grimnar laughed along with her.

After a few seconds, the two rose back to their feet, Logan standing a good 10 inches over the Guardswoman. "How's the little man?" he asked of her and Titus' son.

"Kaleb has been doing great, but he misses his 'Uncle Wolfy'," she joked. The Lord of Fenris simply rolled his eyes and smiled. Finally, he turned his attention to the other Chapter Master in the room, and the smile took a more dangerous edge. "Ah, there's the Raven!" he said with a laugh, as he and Angelos closed the distance between one another.

"Logan, it's been too long," Gabriel calmly smirked before offering Grinmar his hand. Grimnar took it in what would have normally been a bone-crushing handshake for a normal human.

"Aye, Chapter Masters should keep in contact more often," Logan unsubtly chided the Master of the Blood Ravens, "Especially when one wants a rematch for our last match."

"We'll see if I can get one set up for us, Logan, but with Ozpin on high alert I can make no guarantees of my schedule."

The room was silent as the two continued their handshake for several seconds before stiffly letting go.

"So, Vulkan," the Space Wolf began with a thunderous clap, "before I start raiding the refrigerator for dinner... Tell me more about this Mr. Muller fellow ya mentioned over the Scroll..."

* * *

 **Jesus Christ this was tough one to write. Between deciding on whether the kid lives or dies, trying to figure out what length to go for, et cetera, this damned thing has taken me nearly _3 weeks_ to write.**

 **Also, anyone who noticed the juxtaposition I intended with that ending, congratulations, you've got a solid sense of tonal awareness.**

 **Sorry about that guys, but this might become the situation for the immediate future as college classes start up in a little over a week and I'm fully loaded. Don't worry, though, I won't abandon this story.**

 **Next chapter, we spend a chapter cooling down from this last chapter and take time to mourn for those lost... and Jacob gets a little pick-me-up with some help from all 3 teams.**

 **Review, follow, favorite, do as you wish, but I will see you all... in the next chapter... buh-bye~!**

 **EDIT: Re-worked the fight scene between Jacob and the White Fang boy, added usage of both the pocket knife and the IEDs from previous chapters during the entire operation.**


	16. Raindrops on Roses, Whiskers on Kittens

**Well, that escalated quickly last time. Time to chill out a little... even if it is maybe somewhat unwarranted.**

 **But for now, it is only but the calm morning before the dawn of war, where the first wounds may begin to heal... before the next round of them begins.**

 **Also, 100+ FAVORITES. Jesus, that's a milestone and a half for me, thank you all for being there for all of this. It really means alot to me...**

 **Anyways, on with the show.**

* * *

 **Chapter 16: Raindrops on Roses, Whiskers on Kittens**

 _"So dry your tears. Fortune has not yet turned her hatred against all your blessings. The storm has not yet broken upon you with too much violence. Your anchors are holding firm and they permit you both comfort in the present, and hope in the future."_ _―Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy_

* * *

...

...

...

...

 _Darn it all, why can't I get any sleep?_

Though there was a solid layer of glass between her team and the outside rainstorm, she still felt the chill of the wind and the falling rain as the moon overhead was smothered under a blanket of dark clouds. Even with the thick comforters and blankets she felt a trail of goosebumps course down her arms and a resounding chill climb down the length of her back. Even after getting a hot cup of tea at the cafeteria when she and her team returned to Beacon, she still felt the bite of the cold.

Her eyes slowly opened up and through the dim light of the night, she saw her blonde partner peacefully snoring. Something about the image was serene, almost enough to lull her to sleep as well.

Granted, the snoring part made that difficult, but could she blame Jaune for something he didn't have control over?

Another chill crawled down her back.

 _Since when were Valean summer nights this cold?_

If there was one thing that Pyrrha Nikos was always in favor of, it was a good night's sleep; sleep was key for a warrior of any kind, Huntsman, soldier or otherwise. Yet tonight―though in all technicality it was just about to become morning―she could not get herself to fall asleep.

Truth be told, she had a very good idea why that was.

3 hours ago... Jacob...

Gods, she couldn't even say it in her own head.

Pyrrha felt an overwhelming need: she needed to get up. She couldn't just lie down, she _had_ to get up.

Without a peep, she righted herself from her bed and wandered over to the window as the rainstorm outside continued to deposit its deluge. Part of her regretted not immediately grabbing her fluffy crimson robe and instead opting to brave the chill in only her white and gold-trimmed, figure-hugging sleeveless tee and red shorts, but in all honesty she couldn't care less with the thoughts buzzing about in her head. Outside, the rain cascaded down from their lofty home in the sky, coming down atop Beacon Academy's hallowed halls with the sound of rapping knuckles

After a minute of watching the rainstorm the Mistrali champion found herself gripping her head in confusion and agitation. Even with what she did know, things just didn't make sense; what happened out there at the docks? Blake had told them about her stakeout and how Jacob offered to back her up and keep the rest of RWBY off her trail. While she didn't exactly care for the notion that he would outright lie to them, after Blake explained it was far more understandable: Jacob simply willingly stuck his neck out for her during the whole debacle. Granted it had nearly incurred the wrath of Weiss again, but then... everything just ground to a halt after that when...

She could still remember the... _blood_ on his hands.

That boy's blood on her friend's hands...

In the back of her mind, part of her realized how much he had become part of their unusual posse. For the better part of 2 months he had been an outlier, tagging along for the most part simply because they had been the first ones to help him in his strange new predicament. Now she happily would call him a friend, closer than anyone outside the sister-teams she was now a part of. She had actively begun training him for the gods' sakes, right alongside her partner!

And part of her was afraid that her training killed that boy.

 _No,_ she mentally fumed to herself, _neither of you are at fault for this; Jacob was defending himself, the boy was threatening to kill him... it was no one's fault, just an unfortunate encounter._

Yet, at the same time, it felt... _wrong_ in a sense just thinking about it all.

Her friend had... had killed someone.

A boy, no older than Ruby...

Pyrrha Nikos felt her stomach lurch. Now that was foreign to her. She hadn't felt ill like that since she was a bright-eyed, twin-braided, brace-faced little girl in primary combat school some 5 years ago.

 _My gods, has it really been that long?_

Like some prototype maternal instinct, Pyrrha had a sudden distinct urge to check up on the young Huntress. Despite the efforts of Mr. Wukong, Ruby was a smarter girl than most gave her credit for: She had been more than aware of what had transpired...

And the tear-rimmed look she had given Jacob in the aftermath was nothing if not painful to watch.

 _I hope she's doing alright,_ Pyrrha thought to herself.

That strange instinct wasn't shutting up either. She had to check up on Ruby.

It was so unusual for her to have to sneak out anywhere, even the very notion of simply across the hall. She had never needed to sneak about, but she was slow and cautious as she snuck out the door to her dorm and into the hallway.

And about that time another atrocious chill―this one even colder than the last―assaulted her body. _Bad idea, bad idea_ , she thought to herself.

She stood before the door to RWBY's dorm room, her fist ready to rap on the door as lightly as possible―she didn't want to wake Ruby or anyone else who was heavily asleep―but she hesitated at the last second.

 _No,_ she began to think, _it wouldn't be kind to wake them up this late at_ ―

Her thoughts were interrupted as the door squeaked.

Pyrrha's heart skipped a beat. _Was I still loud enough that they heard me!?_

From around the doorframe, a head of golden hair peeked out, shimmering in the moonlight.

"Pyrrha," Yang asked through a yawn, "what are you doing up?"

"Oh, hello Yang," Pyrrha greeted quietly, "I hope I didn't wake you up. I just wanted to see if Ruby is alright."

The tiniest flicker of realization crossed Yang's visage before the sleepiness returned to her eyes. "Oh no, you're fine, I wasn't sleeping that well anyhow. Ruby's fine at the moment, I managed to get her to fall asleep with some help from Weiss. I mean, my sister's not as... _unfamiliar_ with death as you'd think, but she's mostly been concerned about Jacob."

Pyrrha peeked her head through the open door to see inside. Sure enough, Ruby was sleeping like a babe, curled up beneath her covers in Weiss' bed instead of her own precarious perch. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully enough, especially considering Weiss had curled up rather closely next to her, hugging her gently.

"We should probably talk elsewhere," Yang whispered.

"True, or we could wait until morning," Pyrrha offered out of concern for Yang's restfulness.

"Nah," Yang said in reply, "I'm not catching a damned wink of sleep at the moment." The swear caught Pyrrha off guard―Yang certainly seemed the type to swear, but she had never actually heard her swear before―but that was quickly pushed aside as Yang snuck through the narrow opening and silently closed the door behind her. Yang had been wearing the same pajamas as she always wore, an orange sleeveless shirt with her emblem on it and black boy-shorts, and her lion's mane hair was somewhat disheveled tonight. Coupled with some bags under her eyes, it more than looked like she had been subject to an unbearably long day.

"So, P-Money," she began, crossing her arms, "What do you want to talk about?"

Pyrrha let out a massive sigh. "Jacob," she simply said.

"Ah" Yang answered, before asking, "Right. I'm not gonna lie, I don't think he did the wrong thing at all considering what was going on."

The champion stared at the blonde bombshell with a look of surprise. "You mean you... _condone_ what he did?"

Yang glowered at that. "No, I don't condone that he just... killed a boy the same age as my baby sister," she began with an obvious edge of discomfort at that last part, "But it was either him or the kid and... I hate to be that person, but I'm glad it was him."

"...Yes, I suppose so." she began to walk down the length of the corridor, with Yang following beside her. " I just... that boy was... _so young,_ Yang, and I cannot ignore that fact."

Yang's gazed met the floor six feet ahead of her stride. "I know, Pyrrha; believe me, I know." For a brief second, some part of the Mistrali's mind wondered if the blonde had seen her own little sister like that for a brief second, just long enough to strike a tinge of fear in the headstrong Huntress.

But that thought was quickly silenced as a vicious glower overtook Yang's features. "But it's not Jacob's fault," she snarled, "we have to put the blame on the _real_ culprits. It may have been Jacob that delivered that kid to the Hereafter, but we shouldn't forget the bastards who put that kid on the battlefield in the first place." For a brief second, Yang's eyes flashed a blood red, and Pyrrha could have sworn that the temperature in the hallway suddenly jumped to a more comfortable territory.

"The White Fang," Pyrrha acknowledged with her own furrow of anger. Yang was right; the Fang were taking extreme measures and now it had cost a boy his life, and cost a man his conscience being clean. If this kept up...

If this kept up, it wouldn't be long before they broke out into all-out terror attacks.

"How is Blake doing?" Pyrrha asked, speaking of Faunus.

Yang stopped in her tracks. For a second Pyrrha was worried she had hit a sore spot right at the moment. "I... I think she kinda blames herself for what happened too. She was saying that she knew the White Fang were getting extreme, but she never imagined they would reach this degree." The disheartened face Yang wore spoke volumes about that conversation; clearly Blake had felt some guilt over the subject.

But that changed as a cheeky grin made itself manifest. "But I think I chewed her out enough about it all that I don't think she's gonna try that again anytime soon," she laughed softly. Hearing that genuine chuckle after such somber discussion was enough to get Pyrrha to giggle as well.

Their easing laughter sadly gave way to silence again as the night continued on.

"Are you mad at them?"

Yang blinked in confusion at Pyrrha's question. "What?"

"Are you mad that she ran off without you guys? Are you mad that he lied to you to help her?"

Yang motioned as if to protest, but she stopped mid-way through, as if she took a second to rethink her position. It was as if the very air itself held its breath.

For a whole minute, the hallway was silent as the grave.

"...Yes," she finally answered with a huff, "I'm mad at them. But she's my partner and he's my friend, I'm not gonna say 'to hell with them' just because of one little slight."

Pyrrha felt a relieved smile cross her lips. "Glad to hear that," she said.

After a few seconds, Yang's attention was brought to the door to Jacob's dormroom. "He still isn't back yet, is he?"

The smile abandoned Pyrrha's face as she sighed. "I haven't heard the door to his dorm open, so I would imagine no," she replied in a mumble. "Professor Ozpin and Professor Goodwitch took him along with them to their office. Clearing up some details for the police if I remember correctly."

"Do you think he'll be charged with manslaughter?"

Pyrrha shook her head. "Not directly at least, laws in regards to Huntsmen are more lenient, at least back in Mistral. As a student of one of the Academies, disciplining him will probably fall on Ozpin's shoulders. If he doesn't get outright expelled."

Yang winced at that. "In other words," she huffed, "probably gonna go straight to Goodwitch."

Pyrrha stared up into the ceiling, imagining the starry night sky beyond the storm that still hung over the city.

"I just hope he's alright..."

* * *

...

...

"Mr. Muller."

No response.

Louder, perhaps harsher. "Mr. Muller."

Still no response.

"Jacob."

His gaze left the ground, and was met by aged, green eyes.

"Oh, uh... sorry, Ms. Goodwitch," he numbly muttered, "I, uh... I was just thinking."

Out of all the looks he thought he would ever get from Glynda Goodwitch... sorrow was pretty low on the list. There were clearly bags under her eyes, but she seemed to be relatively awake at the moment―still garbed in her usual attire of a pleated long-sleeve top, pencil skirt and violet cape―and yet now she felt less like they dominant force in the school that kept everything running and more like the sidekick to Ozpin she supposedly was by way of her rank. In her hands she held two mugs, both steaming with some kind of brown liquid, most likely cocoa if common sense was in play in Ozpin's mind.

"Ozpin thought you might need something to drink," she said softly, walking over to him and gently placing the mug on Ozpin's desk beside Jacob. Outside, the rainstorm continued on, blotting out the broken moon with naught but the tiniest specks of silver light to pepper the downpour.

"All things considered," he began with a tired sigh, "I'm about... 8 months out from being technically able to drink anything with more burn than soda. Lord knows I might need a shot of whiskey for tonight... maybe tequila." He took the hot mug in his hands, but he couldn't bring himself to drink from the sweet beverage just yet. _Gonna scald my mouth at that heat,_ he thought to himself.

Glynda ignored the comment, instead sitting opposite of him in a similar chair, legs crossed daintily as usual. The snide scowl on her face spoke outright that he had struck a nerve; no doubt a crow-shaped nerve. "Alcohol won't solve your problem, Jacob," she warned. "I have an... associate that look that thought process to heart."

 _Qrow,_ he realized. "If you're referring to a certain Branwen Brother, I'm more than aware of his drinking problems."

The _de facto_ Headmistress stiffened. "How do you know about him?" she asked wearily.

Jacob felt the inquisitive emerald eyes sear deep into his own. "Uh, Amber mentioned him once or twice, told me he's able to drink a tavern out of all of its stock in under a week. I take it from your reaction that's not hyperbole."

Her glare lessened greatly as the lie passed muster. "Qrow's heart is in a good place," she began with a sigh, "but he's brash, and arrogant, and boisterous and... a lot of things that are unsavory."

"Well then," Jacob said after a moment of letting her stew, "I suppose it's a good thing he's not here at the moment then."

Glynda simply stared off into the midnight storm as silence assumed command of the room. Jacob continued to stare down at his drink as the two continued to wait for the Headmaster to arrive.

After another minute, Glynda piped up. "Jacob," she asked quietly, "how are you feeling at the moment?"

Jacob hummed and hawed mentally for several seconds before he relinquished the truth. "I, uh, I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling right now," he admitted in practically a whisper.

"But what _are_ you feeling right now?" she pushed the question.

"...I got most of the fear out of my system, I think," he began, "back at the docks; God knows I already let loose a deluge before the rainstorm had even begun proper... _But..._ I can't say that I feel fine. If anything, I... I feel... _hollow_."

Glynda simply continued to watch him. He couldn't tell what was going through her head, but if her eyes "I killed a kid, Glynda... a kid on the wrong side of the law, sure; a kid who sided with a group closing in on outright _domestic terrorism_ , sure... but still a kid," at this point his voice broke, the burn of tears building in his eyes, "no older than Ruby mind you... and his parents have to come in the dead of night and confirm that's... that's their boy I've killed... that they'll never see alive again... God damnit Glynda, WHY DIDN'T HE HAVE HIS FUCKING AURA!? What's wrong with those _fuckers_ that they would send a _BOY_ into battle with no means to protect himself!?" His fists slammed onto both the desk with his left and his knee with his right as he roared in outrage.

Through the tears now building in his eyes he could see Professor Goodwitch had been taken aback by his sudden outburst. After a few seconds of holding back the tears and breathing like an asthmatic, Jacob began to cool down. "I'm sorry," he whispered as his gaze returned to the ground, "I shouldn't have burst like that." The sound of silence hung in the air like a limp curtain for a few seconds afterwards, as Jacob sat in contemplation of everything; his actions, his intents, his beliefs, all of it.

He felt a hand cup his shoulder in comforting. He looked up to see that Glynda had taken a knee in front of him, her emerald eyes showing her own looks of woe in response. "I know that you blame yourself for what happened to that boy," she quietly consoled, "But you shouldn't. That boy's fate was untimely, but it was not your fault, it was the fault of those who set him on that path in the first place. But what happened back there will not be the last time that something like this happens: we're Huntsmen, lives are always on the line when we are called to battle, and sometimes..." she paused as she took a deep breath, "sometimes it may be our fellow man who threatens the peace."

"Indeed, Glynda," came the distinctive voice of Professor Ozpin as the esteemed Headmaster walked into the room from the elevator, cane in hand and looking obscenely haggard. The long night had not been pleasant to him, especially since the police had hounded him for information that he didn't have.

"Ozpin," Goodwitch said as the two got up out of their seats, Jacob still wiping some of the remaining tears from his eyes, "Are you alright? How did it go?"

Professor Ozpin sighed heavily as said, "Fairly decently, though I must confess it took some tactical finagling to get to where we are now." He turned his attention to the grieving man. "Mr. Muller," he began with a tone of worry, "are _you_ alright?"

"As much as I wish I was...No, not really," Jacob admitted as the tears finally settled down. "I don't think I'm gonna sleep well for the next few days, Oz."

"In all honesty Mr. Muller," the Headmaster continued, circling around his desk and heavily sitting down into his clockwork-gear chair, "I would be more worried if you would sleep any bit peacefully. Not that you shouldn't get any sleep, of course, merely I am just happy that you aren't showing any―"

"―Sociopathic tendencies?" Jacob finished with melancholy.

Ozpin seemed to not know what to say before he slowly answered, "...Yes, actually. I take it you are familiar with the idea?"

"I studied psychology back home," Jacob mumbled, "Didn't get very far into my studies, but sociopathy was one of the classic mental issues that I got around to reading up on."

"Ah, I see," Ozpin sighed after a second. "Regardless, you may be happy to know that any manslaughter charges you might expect are currently being "handled" by your's truly, even if there were some hoops and hurdles to get through," he finished, taking a small drink from his mug of hot chocolate.

Jacob felt a mixture of guilt and elation. "So... what does that mean for me?" he asked, "Because the way you said it, I'm not sure what you mean by that."

"It means, Mr. Muller, that as a student of this Academy, and by extension as a Huntsman, the Council leaves the governance of training Huntsman to senior members of the Academic community. And full fledged Huntsmen are tried by a jury of Huntsmen peers."

Jacob felt a sense of befuddlement over the very notion. "If you have a ruling Council, why would you let your premiere protectors, the people with the pound-for-pound largest quantity of strength, rule themselves?"

"The Council _technically_ holds command over us by way of the treaties after the Great War," Glynda explained, "But they have left us to our own devices, only stepping in if the overall stability of Vale is in jeopardy."

 _So, basically we are like a chapter of Space Marines to the Imperium then,_ Jacob realized quickly, _We adhere to their overall governance, but are given free reign of how we go about protecting them. "_ And.. what happens to me then?" He asked hesitantly.

Ozpin decided then to take an unusually long gulp of cocoa. The tension in the air felt thicker than ice.

"It means," the Headmaster finally said after he finished, turning his head and staring into Jacob's own eyes with the piercing gaze that could drop a gorgon, "that _I_ am to be your judge and jury. But I see it in your eyes, Jacob, that you did not mean to kill that boy. You didn't know that we was unequipped in regards to Aura... but you _did_ fail to recognize that."

The guilt piled on. Jacob's head hung lower in self-disappointment.

"But that being said, I am supposed to pass judgement over you. Whereas your younger peers would receive harsh reprimands, as a legal adult under Huntsman law normally it would be my task to expel you from the Academy."

Jacob's stomach decided to twinge. Panic set in as he realized he could very well be on his way out the door. How would he save Pyrrha now if he couldn't even train himself as a Huntsman?

" _However,_ " Ozpin began, "as a member of _our_ Organization―at least in name for right now, by all accounts we need to formally induct you into the Order as soon as possible―it would be foolish of me to let out someone with such knowledge of our longtime foe out into the world where she could get information out of you. I've motioned for all charges against you to be dropped in light of additional side effects to what transpired tonight." Ozpin tented his hands as he continued to speak to Jacob. "If anything, despite what transpired, you have done a service to Vale by halting the White Fang's thievery for at least some time, and you have successfully shown _how dangerous_ the White Fang can be to send children on these kinds of missions."

Jacob felt a cruel sneer crawl along his face. "How does that help?" he snidely asked.

"Leagues, actually; already, press releases are slated to release tomorrow morning―and you will find that with the Council's approval I have requested that you are to remain anonymous in the press, lest those more approving of the White Fang actively seek you out―and already the Council has begun deliberation on whether to take more extreme actions against the Fang, as well as whether to officially declare them a DTO."

"Domestic terror organization," Jacob reasoned fairly quickly, receiving only a nod from Ozpin in confirmation. "But I still killed that kid―"

"In self-defense, Mr. Muller," Ozpin reminded him. "And before you ask, the parents didn't believe that pressing charges against you would do them any good."

The sane, Terran part of Jacob's mind couldn't begin to register that very notion. Back on Earth, a situation like this would probably have him drowning in criminal charges... and yet not even the _parents_ would or maybe even _could_ press charges!? _What's the point of a justice system if an entire profession of Humanity is not subject to it!? For fuck's sake,_ his mind screamed in a befuddled hybrid of confusion, anger and outrage.

"So," Jacob finally huffed with a massive clap of his hands, "The judgement of a Huntsman falls upon his fellow Huntsmen and Huntresses alone? No civilian input?"

Ozpin nodded. "I take it that doesn't sit well with you."

"Back home, our judicial system―for all its current bureaucratic nonsense―has always judged people on equal footing, no matter who they are." _Or at least it's supposed to,_ he thought to himself.

"I apologize for the culture shock, then."

Jacob waved and shook his head to dismiss the thought. "Whatever," he said with a tired sigh, "I just... I really just want to close my eyes and take a fucking break from consciousness for a while, you know?"

"You've had a long day," Ozpin said, "It's only natural you feel exhausted. Perhaps it would be wise to return to the dorms and get some sleep. Tomorrow is certainly going to be an ...interesting day, all things considered."

Jacob forlornly looked to the ground and nodded in agreement, turning and slowly walking towards the elevators. But as he moved to enter, he stopped for a second, index finger raised as an thought crossed his mind. "Professor," he asked, "outside of team RWBY and JNPR... do you know if the rest of the student body knows about this?"

Ozpin gave him no answer, only replying, "I don't think it would be wise to dwell on such thoughts, Jacob."

As much as it wasn't an answer, it was probably the only thing he was going to get out of Ozpin. Jacob simply nodded and walked inside, turning around just in time to see the doors begin to close. Beyond them, Glynda and Ozpin stared back at him, the Headmaster's face a mask of stoicism in contrast to Glynda's own saddened frown.

How was it that it was _he_ of all people who could get Glynda Goodwitch to lower her emotional guard, he would likely never know.

The doors of the elevator closed shut with a harsh click, and Jacob was alone in the steel-grey elevator with not but the soft hum of the motors and generators to speak to him.

He found himself looking up, hoping to see the stars above and beyond them the Hereafter, where maybe―hopefully was actually what he really meant―that boy was meeting St. Peter at the Pearly Gates.

He glanced down at his watch, still attuned to the date back home.

01:10 AM, September 11, 2017.

"How _delightfully_ poetic," He spat to no one.

A lone tear rolled down from his left eye, across his cheek and onto the cold floor with a tiny plink.

 _It's still my fault..._

* * *

...

...

...

 **Rrrring! Rrrring!**

 ** _SLAM!_**

"Thank you, Nora..."

"Mmmh... pancakes."

 _...Glad to hear she's doing alright,_ was the first thought to go through Jaune Arc's head as he began to awake. Jaune's eyes slowly creaked open as he was met with the sight of the still-dimly lit dorm room, the light cast on the wall opposite their door throwing faint shadows across the way.

He rolled onto his side and was greeted by the sight of his redheaded partner sleeping snugly in her bed, lying on her side with her hands cradling the pillow to her head. Freed of her usual ponytail, her crimson locks sported a few rebellious red hairs as her only sign of bedhead, a feature that ceased to amaze Jaune all things considered. Pyrrha's bronze-gold circlet rested atop her nightstand, the dull morning light still managing to cast a glimmering shine across the polished metal. Though the covers of her bed were all the way up to her shoulders Jaune could still see that she was sporting her usual tee beneath the covers. In the dim light of the morning, Jaune could swear by all the gods of the whole of Remnant that there was almost a miniscule glow to her that made her... angelic at times.

Honestly, sometimes Jaune wondered why it was that no guy had asked to be her boyfriend yet.

He roused from his bed, still sporting his baby blue onesie―honestly he was starting to think about maybe swapping to shorts and an undershirt or something―and started stretching. A few pops here and there and he was headed to the dorm's bathroom to start up for the day.

Getting out of his pajamas, Jaune found himself staring at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. He had to admit, already more than 3 months had passed and he was actually starting to look the part of a Huntsman; what little fat was on him to begin with had been replaced by lean, mean muscle. Muscle mass was also starting to build in his chest and on his arms, and he actually could spot the beginnings of honest-to-the-gods abs. He honestly was in the best shape of his life at the moment.

 _Weiss has got to be falling for me now,_ he wistfully thought to himself, flexing his arms in the mirror. _No doubt she'd fall for me if I gave her a taste of The Suave now._

Quickly showering and getting into his casual attire, Jaune stepped out of the bathroom to the sight of Ren and Nora both up and on their feet, yawning and groaning amidst a crackly cacophony of popping joints. Oddly enough, what sunlight did reach through the curtains had dimmed to some degree, though Jaune now saw that it was 7:30 in the morning. The sun should have been bright enough to easily light the room, but it seemed dull and dim for some reason this morning. Walking to the window, he peaked through the curtains to see the culprit. It turned out that the storm that had been spotted heading inland from the sea last night had in fact made landfall, and the cloud cover―

Wait...

Last night.

It smacked him over the head like a hit from Magnhild.

Sometimes, Jaune wanted to hit himself for how dense he could be at times like this.

Jaune felt his gaze turn downwards as the events of last night sunk in. When he had seen the blood on Jacob's hands, his immediate fear was that it was their friend who was the seriously injured one. Only after he had begun his sobbing mutters did Jaune realize just what had actually transpired.

At first, Jaune had thought that Jacob had simply not realized that the kid's Aura had dropped to nothing and had killed him in a blind battle-fury. Only afterwards was he told that the kid hadn't even _had_ Aura to begin with.

It was a long walk back to Beacon that night, with Yang carrying her upset and tired baby sister in her arms with their teammates following close behind, and Team JNPR walking with Jacob amidst their group. It was only after Professor Goodwitch had requested that Jacob and Blake come with her to talk with Ozpin that they parted ways, only for Blake to return a half hour later with no Jacob in tow.

Jaune's mind returned to the present, and turned to look at his redheaded partner. She must have stayed up even longer than he initially thought because she was still asleep in bed. He moved closer and took a knee before gently placing a hand on her shoulder and shaking it ever so.

"Pyrrha," he started in a whisper, "It's daybreak, time to get up."

Pyrrha quietly groaned as she started to wake up. Emerald green eyes fluttered open and met his own cobalt blue.

For a second, Jaune felt his heart flutter a bit. Odd.

"...Isn't it supposed to be me waking you up from sleeping in?" she mumbled with a smile to him.

Jaune let a small chuckle out, but decided to ignore the friendly dig. "How'd you sleep?"

"Mmh, alright I suppose," she replied groggily as she righted herself and stretched. Her shirt hugged her in a few spots that even after almost 4 months of living together did make Jaune a little hot under the collar.

 _Damnit man,_ he berated himself, _stop thinking of her like that, she's your partner! Besides, she's out of your league anyhow._

"You're not the type to sleep in late Pyr," he said with concern.

Pyrrha's sleepy smile was erased by a sudden frown. "Right... I suppose it's a bit unusual of me."

"You were up thinking about what happened with him, right?"

Pyrrha stared at him with a worried frown on her face. Nora and Ren had both joined in the worry, Nora taking a seat on the bed beside Pyrrha and Ren standing beside Jaune.

"...I got up and went to talk with Yang about what happened," she admitted with a sigh, "Or rather I was originally checking to see if Ruby was alright and _then_ I spoke with Yang."

"How is Ruby doing, anyhow?" Ren asked.

"When I looked into their dorm room, it appeared that she and the rest of her team were sleeping well... as well as they could at least."

"And Yang?" Jaune inquired.

"I doubt she slept a wink," Nora sighed with a shrug.

"Not helpful, Nora," Ren muttered in exasperation.

Jaune stared at his partner for a solid minute as he assessed the situation. What could he really say to ease her mind? Their friend had committed manslaughter on a boy no older than Ruby―albeit in self-defense―and while Jacob hadn't revealed much to them about the circumstances, Jaune was at least smart enough to put two and two together: Pyrrha thought she was partially at fault because she was the one training him alongside Jaune himself.

"Pyrrha," Jaune began as he placed his hand on her shoulder gently, "It wasn't anybody's fault for what happened. He was defending himself and... things didn't turn out the best." He returned to his feet but he never broke eye contact with Pyrrha. "The best we can do is be there for him now."

"Jaune's right," Ren agreed, "He's going to be in need of as much emotional support as possible."

"Yeah," Nora chimed in, "he needs some smiles and some laughs to keep him occupied, Right?"

After seconds of silence and probable contemplation, Pyrrha slowly nodded. "You're right," she said silently. "He doesn't have a team to fall back on. We and RWBY and... to some extent CFVY are the only people he's really comfortable with―"

"Not including most of the professors―" Nora added matter-of-factly.

"And... he has no family to contact, no old friends for him. Without us... he's alone," Pyrrha finished softly, almost meekly to Jaune's ears. It was as if something about that idea hit close to home...

Pyrrha soon stood up and finished stretching. Once again, certain... assets continued to put Jaune's mental fortitude to the test. _Don't think of her like that, don't think of her like that, don't think of her like that,_ his mind continued to repeat like a religious mantra.

"Alright. So," Jaune began, rubbing his hands together, "Let's go talk with him."

* * *

"...Okay, just came from the library, they haven't seen him all morning," Yatsuhashi said.

"Damn," Coco replied, "I thought he'd be there for sure."

"Wait a minute, you said he enjoys the rain, right Ren?" Blake asked as she turned to him.

"Yes," Ren replied as he stroked his chin in contemplation, "the morning before his fight with Weiss he had opted to eat outside even though the rain was starting to come down."

"Not something I would have done," Weiss muttered offhandedly, "Rain and I don't get along as much as snow."

 _Considering you're an Atlesian, I'm not surprised,_ Pyrrha thought to herself bemusedly.

A half-hour had passed since she had woken up and Team JNPR, Team CFVY, and Team RWBY were patrolling the Academy grounds in a supermassive team of 12 Huntsmen and Huntresses. In a surprising move, they were met at the door by CFVY, to whom word had reached about what happened last night.

And even worse, it was starting to sound like word was starting to slither to other students' ears as well.

When she heard that, Pyrrha felt her stomach lurch just like it had last night.

As it had turned out, Jacob had not returned to his dorm―or at the very least had been to and left his dorm before they collectively awoke― when they called into his room. They all knocked in some form or another, Pyrrha's usual four knocks that got his attention receiving no response, Coco's massive thuds that could have awoken the dead from their crypts and Velvet's soft taps that frankly couldn't spook a church mouse going unresponded to as well.

And now they had collectively begun searching the rest of the campus for their unofficial 9th member. By now they had searched a fair amount of ground, only finding some clues when they heard that he had at least gotten some semblance of breakfast that morning and when their questioning of Professor Oobleck revealed that he had come to the professor's class to go ahead and do his semester exam early. Oobleck offered some reassurance to Jacob and offered an ear if he ever needed to talk, but apparently Jacob had said that he, "wanted to be alone with his thoughts for right now."

Yet again, Pyrrha's stomach had roiled a little bit when she heard that.

An old, dark memory from way back decided to rear its head again. _Oh gods pl_ _ease, not again..._

Now the teams had reconvened outside the mess hall as they continued to brainstorm where he was.

"If he wandered into Vale," Yang growled as she leaned against the colossal windows of the cafeteria, "I'm gonna kick his ass when he gets back, or if we find him. I already spent an entire day searching for my partner yesterday, I'm not in the mood for another search-and-rescue mission."

"Fortunately, _you_ don't need to!"

All 12 Huntsmen and Huntresses jumped back and cried out, Weiss' scream of surprise practically breaking a few eardrums as she leaped into Ruby's arms.

Wait, her mistake, that was Jaune's scream as he jumped into Pyrrha's arms. Not that she minded being closer to him, in all reality. In fact, she distinctly noticed her heart fluttering a bit on contact with Jaune.

"Sun, not funny!" Blake shouted at the monkey Faunus―Sun Wukong, she remembered―as he was now swinging upside down from an overhead rail by way of his tail.

Sun's jovial smile gave way to a sheepish grin. "Sorry, I tend to be stealthy."

After a brief second, Sun flipped and landed feet first beside Blake, who glared at him to some extent before obviously deciding to drop the subject. "Whatever. Anyway, what was it you were saying?"

"I was saying I saw him out by the gardens, just... hanging out under a tree. He seems to be alright I guess. Looks like he's got a sketchpad or something with him, and I'm pretty certain I heard music of some kind." As we was saying all of this, Sun's tail had snaked into the pocket of his shorts and pulled a fair-sized pear from the confines of said pocket. In one massive bite a fifth of the fruit was already down his gullet.

That caught Pyrrha's attention. "I don't recall him ever having a sketchpad before," she mused as she continued to hold Jaune, whom by now was easily a beet red. Whatever he tried to ask her however fell on deaf ears; it was probably a plead for her to let go of him or something.

"He's drawn in the past," Yang mentioned as she scratched her chin, "I've seen the ones on his notes. Not a bad doodler actually, a lot better than Ruby is." Her teasing sentence was punctuated in response by an indignant cry from Ruby.

"Anything else with him," Blake asked, "like his weapons or anything else like that?"

"From where I was standing, dude's completely unarmed," Sun replied.

With a collective nod, the group took off in the direction of the gardens, leaving Pyrrha standing there with a still-nervous Jaune.

"Uh, Pyrrha, can I please get down now?"

"Oops, sorry Jaune," she apologized meekly before letting him return to his feet. Without a second's hesitation, they took off after the rest of their group at a breakneck pace.

* * *

Soon they had caught up as the group had slowed to a mild walk. Ruby had taken point with Weiss and Yang pulling directly behind her, and CFVY coming up behind them, and the rest of JNPR pulling the flank with Blake. Overhead, thunder rolled through the heavens like a great beast flying just above the clouds and the looming clouds began to make good on their threat of rain. A few drops plinked over the crown of her head, and a few more rolled off her fold-bronze circlet and onto her nose. She honestly didn't care. Rain was rain, no reason to be ducking for cover for a just a few drops as of right now.

Just as Sun said, they found Jacob lying at the foot of a large elm tree overlooking the pond. The shadow of the tree hung over him like a thick blanket, even more so than usual thanks to the overcast skies blotting out the sun overhead. He was sitting away from them and the Academy, looking out over the city below Beacon's watchful gaze. He was leaning back against the tree, his legs tucked up underneath him and his arms propped up by his knees. Though they couldn't see his eyes directly, Pyrrha already gathered he was most likely lost in thought. From his strange proto-Scroll some form of backcountry guitar strummed out a somber tune, though what the lyrics were she couldn't tell from how far out she was.

Pyrrha felt the tension in her stomach subside a bit. _I'm not too late,_ a part of her mind thought to herself. She was first to walk up to him and was already halfway up the hill before being joined by Ruby and the rest of JNPR while the rest held back. The closer she got, the more she could hear the lyrics.

 _...Did you feel guilty 'cause you're a survivor_

 _In a crowded room did you feel alone?_

 _Did you call up your mother and tell her you loved her?_

 _Did you dust off that Bible at home?..._

The storm overhead rumbled again, and a brief flash of light illuminated the sky.

"Have you come to ask about last night?"

Jacob's question rang out louder than it should have, considering it was a mutter if anything. The five friends stopped 10 feet away from him and the tree.

"...No," Ruby said after a second of hesitation.

His voice quivered a little, as though he were holding back the urge to cry. "Then why are you here?"

"Because we're worried about you," said Pyrrha. "You didn't come back to your dorm last night―"

"I did," he corrected, "but I couldn't bring myself to stay there for very long. Sorry I didn't let you know."

They arrived beside him and were greeted by a disheartening sight. His denim jacket was tied around his waist, leaving him with only his light grey t-shirt and tan cargo pants to protect against the rain and the steadily-rising winds. Unfortunately she noticed that there were still bloody spray patterns on the sleeves and on his pants' knees, only now the blood had gone from deep red to a dried brown. It would take several runs in the school laundromat for those to come out, and even then it was doubtful that he would ever look at those clothes again the same way.

The good news was that he hadn't harmed himself; Pyrrha had always thought he was the type to abhore personal harm and it seemed to be that her hunch was correct. The bad news was that there was clear evidence that he had been more than even incredibly upset. His eyes were red and puffy and perhaps a slight bit bloodshot, and the thousand yard stare he was sporting did not relieve her fears at all. He had also not shaved yet, as he was sporting a scraggly line of stubble along the edge of his jawline.

"Jacob," Pyrrha began softly as she took a knee beside him, " _no one_ blames you for what happened." She was quickly joined by Ruby, who had taken a kneeling seat to his right opposite of Pyrrha.

"Maybe no one here... but I still do." Jacob continued to stare forward into the city, lost in his thoughts.

"Dude," Jaune began, "there's no reason to blame yourself. What happened... it was an accident, you didn't know―"

"But I should have," Jacob snapped venomously. "I should have known that he didn't have an active Aura, I should have sensed... _something,_ right!? But I didn't, and because of that a kid's dead! A kid no older than Ruby, a kid _no older than my own little brother_!"

Everyone had recoiled in surprise at his outburst, but Pyrrha had taken notice that Ruby and Yang had suddenly grown looks of abject horror.

Ren was first to reengage the conversation. "I'm sorry to say Jacob, but... that's not something Aura can sense. Impending threats to yourself, sure, but other Aura-wielders? Honestly, no one would have known in your position."

Jacob didn't respond, instead only curling up even tighter than before. "Jacob," Ruby pleaded, "please talk to us." She reached out and gently took his right hand, though the sudden rigidity of his back said that she had just invaded his personal bubble as it were. He stared back at her in some odd blend of shock and fear before bowing his head.

A silent bout of sobs reached Pyrrha's ears.

She couldn't take it anymore.

Pyrrha found herself hugging him and soon enough joining in his sobbing with Ruby joining in soon after. For what felt like an hour―but was actually around 5 minutes―the trio cried their hearts out.

"I can't... I just can't," were the only words that Jacob could blubber out.

Eventually, Pyrrha cupped his face in her hands and brought his eyes up to hers. Coffee brown met emerald amidst a downpour of salty raindrops that drip-dropped onto Ruby's head as she continued to hug Jacob's chest. "Listen to me," Pyrrha said firmly but shakily through their collective sobs, "You have _nothing_ to be ashamed of. If not for your sake, for our sakes put the blame on the _real_ reason he's dead."

By now the rest of the group had encircled them, with CFVY on the left flank, JNPR standing directly in front and Sun and the rest of RWBY kneeling beside their heartbroken leader.

"Jacob," Ruby hissed through her tears, "None of us want to see you like this... please don't put this on yourself."

"But how!? How can I," he cried, "When I was the one to pull the trigger!"

Blake slowly moved in and pried her team leader off of the grieving man, only to let Yang quietly console her little sister. At the same time, in a single movement, she moved her hand to her bow.

"Blake, what are you―!?"

Before Sun could finish his sentence, her bow was ripped from her head, and Pyrrha got her first full view of their friend's Faunus ears.

Amidst the rain, thunder and wind, a stunned quiet assumed command of the hill.

"Look at me," Blake hissed angrily, her cat ears flattening against her head. "If there's anyone you should be mad at, it's... it's me."

"No Blake, you didn't―"

"Stop! I was part of the White Fang for so long and I saw what was becoming of it," she continued to angrily shout, "but I didn't acknowledge it! I didn't act sooner, and it's because of that they're doing things like this! You may have pulled the trigger, but it was my inaction that sent that boy to his death! If you have _anyone_ to be angry at, it's me!"

Her outburst caught everyone off guard. Sun ended up taking a step backwards from Blake in surprise.

"Don't blame yourself for something you had no control over," she whispered as she laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Blake's right," Velvet said as she stood close to Coco, "if anything it's the Fang's fault. _They_ sent that boy in with no means to protect himself. _They_ sent him in to steal that Dust." Her gaze was cast downward as she was drawn into a hug from her own team leader.

Pyrrha looked back at Jacob, who now was looking up at them all with a worried look. "So," he sniffled, "None of you think any lesser of me? None of you blame me for his death?"

A collective headshake replied back. Jacob sighed heavily. After a terse minute, he spoke. "You're right," he said, "As much as I still see myself responsible... you're right. The Fang sent him in there, with no Aura no less. Either this is some batshit insane hazing from the higher ups, or they knew he would die and that's by and large the more fucked up possibility."

In the background, the music on his proto-Scroll stopped and silence held sway for all but a few seconds before another song started up.

 _Raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens,_

 _Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens,_

 _Brown paper packages tied up with strings,_

"these are a few of my favorite things."

All eyes turned to Jacob as he had said that. His head was back against the tree, eyes closed and shoulders slack. It appeared he was trying to calm down but was clearly far from being there, as Pyrrha still noticed his hands were clenching in doubtless anxiety.

"This one of a couple songs my mother and I used to sing when I was a little kid," he said. "It's supposed to be about appreciating the little things in life. I've got a couple of songs like that on my phone... perhaps as a fortunately-held reminder of home."

For a second, he remained stoic. Then, the tiniest hint of a smile before he let out a tiny, bemused chuckle. "I wonder how they would react to all of this... My mom and dad and my little brother I mean, how they would react. Where I am now, who I'm surrounded by, what I'm doing with my life. I'd like to think they'd be proud..."

For a moment, Pyrrha started to think back to her own home. She had a home to return to, a mother that loved her deeply, even a friend or two from her days in primary school... but he didn't. His home―wherever it was on Remnant―was gone, his family gone, his old friends gone, nothing of his old life but a beat-up piece of archaic technology, memories of a life gone by. And yet here he was, the weight of the role of a Huntsman straining him, but still coming out at least somewhat strong.

His smile became infectious. Soon, everyone in the group was joining in on the smile.

For the first time in the last 12 hours, Pyrrha felt a genuine smile join them. "I'm sure they would be," she replied as she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

The thunder had stopped and the rain had let up, though it still was overcast enough that the sky was still a light tone of grey. Even so, Pyrrha looked out over the city and saw a few beams of light cut down through the cloud cover and onto the city skyline.

Then without warning, Wukong sprung up into the foliage of the tree, and in less than five seconds came back down with a paper bag in hand.

"Oh, hey! I just remembered I picked this up back at the docks! Didn't want to see it get carted off or something."

Jacob's smile grew even wider. "Old Glory! Oh thank God, I hadn't even remembered that I'd left it. Thank you, Wukong."

"Please, just call me Sun."

After another second, Nora decided to pipe up. "Welp," she began as she glanced upwards, "this was nice to get all the humdrum emo-stuff off our chests, but I think it's a lovely type of morning to just kick back on the grass and soak in the day... even if it is kinda cloudy."

"For once," Yang said with a sigh, "I'm in complete agreement with Nora." As she finished, she fell back on her butt before splaying out and lying in the grass with her hands tucked up under her head.

As Weiss started chewing her teammate out for her rather unladylike behavior, Jaune, Ren, Nora and Blake took seats right beside Pyrrha and Jacob an Team CFVY decided to join them midway between the splayed-out group.

For what felt like forever, they simply sat and watched as the cloud cover overhead continued to roll by, the spotlights of sunshine sweeping across the shrouded city like a golden eye of the gods.

About that time, Jaune found Jacob's sketchbook.

"Wow, are these yours?"

"Oh yeah, most of those are from before I arrived. I haven't exactly had a lot of time for drawing while I've been here."

"Nice stuff. Dragons, guns, swords... "daemons", okay―What's this? 'Study Sketches?'"

"Oh geez, Jaune, don't go looking through that..."

Jaune flipped the sketchbook towards Jacob and Pyrrha. On it, was a... well...

"...Why is there a naked lady here?"

A collective eek from every girl sans Yang, Coco and Nora rang out. Pyrrha felt an especially heated blush grow across her face.

A heavy and bemused sigh left Jacob's mouth. "I take it you lot have never heard of a _figure drawing_ session, then..."

* * *

Normally, there were few instances that could get Glynda Goodwitch to grin from ear to ear in a legitimate moment of mirth. Oddly enough, today was one of those days.

"How's he doing, Glynda?" came the voice of the headmaster over her shoulder.

"Much better; I think being around those kids does him a great deal of favors," said Glynda.

Ozpin took a sip from his cocoa before he continued. "He's at the most only 5 years Ruby's senior, and at the very least 2 years CFVY's senior. Technically he is still on that razor's edge between cynical adulthood and optimistic youth."

"Admittedly, he seems to tip more towards the former," Glynda muttered offhandedly. Currently, the two were standing in the shadow of the great columns that lined the edge of Beacon's center courtyard, peering out towards the merry band of misfits.

"Regardless," Ozpin said, "I can still see a tiny glimmer of optimism, even if it is buried behind so self-deprecation and cynicism. He wants his heart to be proven right, even if his mind is calling him foolish."

Glynda turned and studied her colleague for a long time before deciding to speak. "You seem to know a lot more about him than you let on, Oz."

Ozpin continued to stare directly onwards at the amassed assembly of 13 Huntsmen. "When you get to my age Glynda you start picking up on things, tiny details in a person's actions and whatnot. And something about Jacob seems... _tired_ , I suppose, tired of a mind always taking him by the reigns."

"He wants to follow his heart," she gathered from his comment.

"Yes, but he fears that he will start down the wrong path. As little as he shows it outwardly, I sense a lot of fear from him... and some form of secret."

"You still don't trust him entirely, do you Ozpin?" She asked, crossing her arms over her ample chest.

"No. That's why I asked Team CFVY to both befriend him and to keep an eye on him. I asked them if they find anything suspect about him to come directly to me and report it. Besides, in the event that there is nothing wrong, I don't see any reason why he and Team CFVY wouldn't get along."

"You still think he's one of her's, don't you?"

Ozpin offered her no answer. Instead he asked, "How long have they been there?"

"About an hour," Glynda said as she glanced down at her Scroll's clock. About that time, Mr. Muller was up on his feet and soon joined by the rest of the teams, all of them gathered around him as he took out what looked like a banner from out of the paper bag that monkey Faunus boy brought.

"His people's banner?" asked Glynda as she studied it; Even at a distance she could see the 13 stripes of red and white and a blue square in the corner peppered with about 50 stars of white.

"Less like a banner, more of a flag in my opinion," Ozpin countered.

"Regardless, I've never seen that one before on any registered village lists."

"That's because I doubt he is from any registered village."

"And how do you mean that, Oz?"

He didn't respond to her pet-name for him. The 13 Huntsmen passed them by unknowingly thanks to their secluded observation spot, and Glynda couldn't help but notice that the spark she saw in Jacob's eyes during the spar with Weiss was just starting to reappear after having disappeared last night.

All the while, Ozpin continued to sip from his mug and ponder. "Just who are you, Mr. Muller..."

* * *

 _Thunk!_

 _Thunk!_

 _Thunk!_

"There we are," he said as he lowered the hammer in his grasp. The tack had driven home cleanly, missing the wall supports probably by inches, although who could say really without the dormroom schematics.

Part of him wondered if it actually was poor flag-etiquette to tack the Star-Spangled Banner to a wall, right there alongside letting it fall to the floor and not lowering it at sunset when attached to a flagpole; but it wasn't like he could attach it to a flagpole at Beacon or people would start asking questions. Fortunately for him, the tacks were small enough and of enough varying colors that he was able to camouflage three of them amidst the 13 stripes and another one amid the blue.

A low whistle alerted him to Coco's presence right behind him. "Nice flag," she said, "A little lacking in color variety but whoever designed it's got a good eye for placement."

"Yeah," Jacob replied as he stepped down from atop his chair, "You should see some of the versions from way back when. Personal favorite's always been the original, had a circle of 13 stars instead of the 50 we have now."

"50 stars for... 50 families, I presume?" she asked.

"Something like that," Jacob replied. He took a step back to review his choice in location; The Stars and Stripes now hung opposite to his desk and bathroom door in the middle of the wall.. Entering from the main doorway into the hall, it hung on the left hand wall, staring out over his dorm unopposed. Unfurled it was only about 36" across in width, but it still was a sizeable accessory to the room.

Turning around, he met the eyes of the teens that he now shared a common cause with. Most had taken to scanning his room in curiosity, as the last person to enter his room outside of himself was Ruby all those months ago; Since then, few things had really changed, mainly in the form of textbooks and novels lining his miniature bookshelf under the window and one or two generic paintings, including the very same Forever Fall painting found in RWBY's dorm. Fortunately, he was smart enough to hide away the 40k Rulebooks and the Blu-Ray player and the Steelbook as well, thanks in no small part to the personal effects safe found in behind the mini-bookshelf.

Blake set down his converted Inquisitor on the desk before walking over by Jacob to admire the flag. "I'd say it's got solid color," she said, "Sure it's only got 3 colors grand total―technically 2 considering white and whatnot―but I like it."

"A reminder of home," Jacob said wistfully as he looked back at it.

And as the sunlight danced across Old Glory's stripes, he thought back to the night before. Even now though everyone else considered him innocent, as far as he was concerned he would probably never be fully guiltless.

He glanced down at Titan, now cleaned of the gore of her first... her first kill.

And unbeknownst to all, he had taken the blade of his pocket knife and carved a teeny-tiny line on the end of the barrel... a forever reminder of the first life taken.

And part of him realized that before this was all over... he would be forced to kill again.

Or else Penny―or Pyrrha, or anyone really―could pay for it.

 _Looks like my own little war on terror has just begun._

He looked back at the smiling faces of everyone in the room. From in the back, leaning back beside Jaune on the edge of the desk, Pyrrha beamed back at him.

From on his bed, Ruby smiled brightly back at him.

 _...but I won't have to face it alone. At least, not entirely._

* * *

 **And scene! * Le-thud***

 **Okay, so a bit of history; I was only 4 when The Towers came down back in 2001, and when they were first attacked I was at preschool. Now, my memory of that day is foggy, but my parents relegated to me the fact that they tried to hide it away from me that day. I had no idea of what happened, even after I was pulled early that day, and I never knew what happened until years later. I was fortunate enough to not lose anyone in the attacks, as all of my family at the time was living west of the Rockies and had no business on the East Coast. I've grown up in the post-9/11 world and can't remember a time when security at an airport wasn't tighter than a sphincter, to say nothing of my little brother who was born 2 months after the attacks.**

 **But even now I watch the footage and I'm floored by the insanity of it all. The perpetrators, the chaos of the attacks themselves, the aftermath, it just floors me. Every time I watch the footage of the plane making impact with the South Tower, I feel that same righteous indignation our nation collectively felt in the wake of it all.**

 **The only problem is, the first time I really felt it was 8 years into The War On Terror, and by then everyone on both sides were starting to grow tired of our fruitless endeavor in the Middle East.**

 **A running pattern with me seems to be being late to join something and being caught up in the fervor over something even though most have started healing by then. *Hint-hint*.**

 **Regardless, this chapter was meant to be a filler/somewhat of a cooldown chapter; but this won't be the last time that this date shows up in the story.**

 **Remember how the date on Remnant and the date on Terra are off by a few months?**

 **Anyways, Like I said this will probably find it's way over to the 40K/RWBY crossover page, so standby for teleportarium. Let's just hope we don't teleport into the side of a mountain or something.**

 **Edit: Removed the last part of the chapter, realized it was really, REALLY stupidly placed. Gonna wait for the end of Season 2 for all the 40k Models to get dropped on his doorstep by a mysterious benefactor.**

 **Critiques and Reviews are welcomed so long as they are constructive rather than for the sake of flame, If you like the story I would appreciate a follow and a favorite as incentive for me to keep doing this, and I will see you all... in the next chapter. Buh-bye~!**


	17. Change In Plans

**Well, that last chapter was angsty as fuck. Felt like a damn Linkin Park song was gonna start blaring at any second while I was writing.**

 **Anyways, the plot continues rolling on, and things are about to be hot and bothered as it were, so standby.**

* * *

 **Chapter 17: Change in Plans**

 _"No plan survives first contact with The Enemy." —Lion El'Jonson, Primarch of the Dark Angels_

 _"Then you are not making the right plans." —Rogal Dorn, Primarch of the Imperial Fists, in response to his brother._

* * *

Over the course of a lifetime, one will see many things that either lift your spirits or drop them like a rock. For some, the former took the shape of watching their baby take their first steps, or winning the lottery or other myriads of things that force a great and mighty grin. For others though, it took the form of the defeat of one's opponent and their submission to your will.

Vulkan He'Stan despised the latter of those two wherever he went.

A morning in Vale was always a pleasure for Vulkan He'Stan to witness, even if he was only catching the tail end of it. From atop the small balcony of the hotel he could look out and see all of Vale stretch before him. In comparison to the great and dreary ecumenopolises of say Armageddon and Necromunda the city of Vale may have been small potatoes in comparison, barely even on par with the largest hab-centers on some Death Worlds. Perhaps that was why Vale was so dear to his heart; It was small and—while perhaps not entirely weak—it was cozy, though nowhere near as cozy and homely as his people's village on Nocturne.

By the Primarch did it hurt to think about Nocturne. Had it changed since he had been unceremoniously dropped here? Had it been attacked? Had it thrived? Had his Primarch returned to his people in these darkest of times?

So many questions for the Emperor, and yet no answers.

Yet he refused to allow despair to control him, let alone whisper in his ear. When he had arrived here unceremoniously and no doubt through the twisted machinations of The Enemy he had left the Chapter in good hands. Tu'Shan was no slouch, and he cared greatly for both the people of Nocturne and the people of the Imperium. If the Primarch returned and met Tu'Shan there was no doubt in He'Stan's mind that Lord Vulkan would happily call him Son.

He took a deep breath in, catching the smell of the early morning dew and the clean air. While it was still tinged with the faintest taste of smog from the fires of forges down in the Industrial District, the air here was so fresh that Macragge would turn green with envy in comparison of how clean the air was.

It was a shame that he no longer had his multi-lung though; he missed being able to withstand such toxic fumes with so little effort. Hell, in general at times he missed all of his gene-seeds, even that damnable Melanochrome defect that plagued his fellow Salamanders. While certainly he was still stronger and tougher on a basic level than most of the rest of his brothers of different Astartes Chapters—in no small part due to the nature of living on a planet like Nocturne—there were some instances where he missed having his Ossmodula and his Biscopea.

Out of the corner of his eye, a wall of blue walked beside him. "Judging by the look of things I would say you're missing some of our gene-seeds," Titus said with a content sigh, "And believe me, I know exactly how that feels."

Vulkan laughed. "Really now? Which one do you miss the most?"

Titus leaned onto the rail, the 2nd Company Captain hunched over with his elbows on the rails. "Easy," he said, "my Larraman's Organ. I miss being able to heal a wound in seconds rather than wait days on end for a wound to heal, Huntsman Aura-healing notwithstanding. What about you, Vulkan?"

"Lyman's Ear. I still can't get on a boat or a plane without feeling sick to my Emperor-damned stomach," He'Stan replied with a chuckle.

Titus looked over his shoulder and back into the room, musing to himself, "I wonder what Logan misses the most, or Gabriel for that matter."

"Knowing Logan," Vulkan replied, " _he_ probably misses his Preomnor. Now he has to actually think about what he is eating; that or his Oolitic Kidney, for the same reason of course."

Titus chuckled. "Are we sure he doesn't still have that? You should have seen him down an entire 6-pack of beer just to get a buzz about 4 years ago at the Atlas Vytal Festival." The two burst out into laughter at the thought of the Great Wolf of the _Vylka Fenryka_ desperately downing a six-pack in the hopes of getting drunk.

As their laughter died down, the skies overhead continued to brighten, casting them in a warm golden light with the steel of the building shimmering in the sunlight.

"It's a beautiful morning," Titus sighed. "Reminds me of my days as a Neophyte on Macragge. Did I ever tell you about my time as a recruit?"

Vulkan nodded as a bemused smile crossed his lips. "No, none of us besides Logan have told of those days come to think of it."

Titus' gaze became long and misty as a nostalgic smile formed. "On the first day of the Terran-Standard month, all Neophytes were given the first half of the day to pursue whatever they desired: training in combat, strategy, philosophy, the arts, whatever you could name we practiced."

Vulkan joined his Ultramarine teammate in leaning on the rail. down below was a 14-story fall to the ground, but considering the heights they both used to endure this was a cakewalk. "Oh? I didn't take the Ultramarines for being so lax about something for even 12 hours," he said with dripping sarcasm. "And what did you do with that half-day?"

It was a few seconds before Titus answered. "The first three years I spent those days training just as I had always done. Back then I took the Codex Astartes to heart with no question of it, just like Leandros." For a brief moment Titus' eyes showed signs of regret at the uttering of that name. "I would train until my legs would collapse and my brothers would have to haul me back to the barracks just to unceremoniously toss me into my quarters."

Vulkan couldn't stop his amusement from escaping his throat in a boisterous laugh. "Well," Vulkan said through the chuckling, "I imagine that didn't last long afterwards, right?"

Titus shook his head. "One of those mornings after a mission in the Scout Company, I had spent the entire night in debriefing the battle for the Master of Recruits to analyze and correct any mistakes my team and I had missed. I was so dead-tired even with my Catalepsean Node working perfectly that I nearly fell asleep on the walk to the training hall. But when I got there, I had rounded the door into the training room... and there was the Captain of the 1st Company, sparring with my Neophyte team."

"Saul Invictus," Vulkan remembered. "I had heard that he would often train with the Neophytes to pick out good candidates for promotion in the future."

"Well, suffice it to say I felt more than embarrassed about being so late; at least as embarrassed as an Astartes can be," Titus said wistfully. "When it came time for me to test my mettle, Captain Invictus put down his sword, came up to me and said—"

"I distinctly remember hearing this one Titus," piped up a female voice behind them, "and to make a long story short Vulkan, Captain Invictus told him to rest up and take the day off _the following_ day; supposedly every Ultramarine within 20 yards stopped in their tracks in Emperor-damned shock."

They turned around to find Mira standing in the doorway, her pink fuzzy robe and slippers adorning her and a hot mug of coffee in hand. She wore a knowing smile as she looked at the two. "That following day Titus took it easy for a change and ended up painting the Konor Ridge in the morning light. He actually went and painted it again from memory for the house, and it currently is sitting over the mantle as a reminder of home."

"Sorry to disturb you love," Titus apologized. Vulkan simply bowed his head and smiled as she replied in turn, "It's alright, I doubt I was going to sleep in much longer anyhow. Logan and Gabriel want to talk to you though in regards to that Muller boy."

Vulkan's mood turned southward. _So much for a completely pleasant morning,_ he mused as the trio returned inside the room.

As the arrived at the kitchen, the were already greeted by the sights of Logan and Gabriel cooking up breakfast; judging by the massive skillet of hash browns, scrambled eggs on another skillet and sausage links on yet another, it was going to be a meal fit for an Astartes. Logan was pouring out drinks as Gabriel worked the kitchen, the Great Wolf pouring a smidge of a cheap champagne from their first night together as a team again into his morning orange juice.

"A mimosa, at this time of the morning? You really need to cut back," Mira commented in concern.

"I know," the old Wolf sighed, "That's why I tossed out my whiskey last night. After this, I'm gonna try going a week cold turkey and see how that goes."

"Regardless, we need to talk about some things. Namely Mr. Muller, and some of our other friends," Gabriel said as he continued to cook—the very thought of a Chapter Master cooking for himself was always delightfully hilarious to Vulkan—while little more than an undershirt and a fresh set of tan cargo pants.

"Oh? What do you mean by that last part," Titus asked the Blood Raven.

"Darnath and Luce gave me a call last night, said they were coming into Vale tomorrow; Their daughter is supposed to be fighting as a Lone Wolf on behalf of Haven."

"Oh, how is Delia doing? By the Emperor," Mira began to say in bewilderment, "it's been nearly... what now, a year since we last saw her when she started at Haven?"

"Two years I think Mira: she should be turning 19 as of next month." At that Titus went up and poured himself a mug of coffee as well, immediately taking a big gulp of the amber brew. "Sure beats Imperial recaf, at least this actually has a palpable flavor." Mira replied with a raised mug of her own in agreement.

"Anyway, besides the Lysanders coming," Angelos continued, "There was also a message from Dante, Pythol, Corven and Ahmrad informing that they will be in town as well. Oh, and I received a text communique from someone we haven't heard from in years."

A pregnant pause overtook them. Vulkan's eyebrow creeped upwards in anticipation.

"Ciaphas is on his way over from Atlas."

A collective laugh of surprise consumed the room; Good ol' Ciaphas Cain!

"By the Primarchs," Grimnar laughed, "it's been years! Did he say when and where?"

"He said he would be at the docks tomorrow on a vessel named 'Frozen Mercy' set to dock at 13:00 hours," Gabriel replied.

"We _have_ to be there to see the old bastard," Logan replied as he finished a sip from his mimosa. "I still have a couple HERO OF THE IMPERIUM jokes to tease him with!"

Vulkan however was focused on the first part of Gabriel's original statement. "So Gabriel," he began, "what was it you wanted to say about Jacob?"

Angelos remained silent for a minute before he finally answered. "The question of the hour is whether or not Mr. Muller is a fellow Imperial," he said as he passed out plates full of his cuisine. As he sat down he continued, "If he was a fellow Imperial, than he should have recognized you the second he laid eyes on you."

"He could be from a remote corner of the the Imperium," Titus replied as he began to cut into the sausage links on his plate, "perhaps he is of the Calixis Sector."

Gabriel shook his head. "I doubt it; He seemed too generally nice to hail from such a damnable place."

Now it was Mira's turn to pipe up. "Perhaps he was a fellow Guardsman, stationed on some backwater planet where Marines are rarely if ever seen."

"He would have drawn attention to himself with fervent prayers to The Emperor and a spiteful hate of Faunus," Logan noted. Mira couldn't deny that her fellow Guardsmen tended to take their devotion to illogical extremes.

"...Maybe he's not of the Imperium," Logan said aloud in thought, "perhaps it is all just a fluke of luck."

The silence in the room told him that they were all staring at him now with some form or curious or incredulous looks on their faces.

"We may be looking for a Daemon where there is none as it were," Grimnar said as he finished his hash browns. "I would bet that perhaps someone from much earlier in our world formed a small version of the Imperial Cult where Jacob came from that spoke of our world in more... abstract ways; it could be that he is merely the byproduct of a deviation of the Imperial Cult."

The other 4 in the room shared looks of thought before nodding their heads in agreement; That was more than likely to be the case.

"Regardless, we should keep an eye on him," replied Gabriel, "He's set to join Ozpin's group anyhow, putting him much closer to us than what we would encounter normally. Now, Ozpin has requested that I offer combat training and instruction to these Huntsmen-in-training, and I have no doubt that the same applies to everyone on VLAT. This could be key to figuring out what's going on."

Vulkan hated the notion of spying on the poor boy; it was not in the nature of a Salamander to be deceptive to his allies. But when Gabriel had an intelligent moment, everyone listened for good reason; his plans had yet to throw them astray.

"...Very well," Vulkan said after a minute of mulling over, "I suppose we have little choice." He picked up his glass and offered it in toast with three words that they all knew by heart.

"The Emperor Protects."

A chorus of the same three words echoed across the room as 5 glasses clinked together to seal this mission in ironclad promises.

And for the first time in years, Vulkan He'Stan, Forgefather-turned-Huntsman felt that same gnawing pit he first felt when he first arrived.

When he first arrived... how strange and memorable that had been all those years ago.

After all, what else is more memorable than the day you died in battle?

* * *

 **SMACK!**

"Auurgh!"

With a massive thud, he collided back-first with the wall of the auditorium ring. Pain reverberated through every bone in his body. Fortunately his Aura held firm, sparing him a broken jaw from that upswing, though now it had dwindled to only 12%. Wincing his way through the pain, he hoisted himself onto one knee in a desperate attempt to get back to his feet.

He heard the footfalls, followed by the warcry. 5 seconds to impact, he deduced mentally.

He looked up. His foe was running at breakneck speeds, mace held high over his head, ready to bring it down on the crown of his head and splatter his grey matter across the floor.

But his foe left his chest open for attack.

 _This is it!_

He got to his feet, bracing for the attack with his shield and sword. His foe lept at him, hoping to get a boost of strength from gravity pulling him back to earth.

He rushed forward. He swung at his foe's torso.

He felt the blade make contact with his foe's Aura.

Cardin Winchester was sent sprawling off to the side, the impact of the blade sending him into a wall.

He looked up at the screen overlooking them.

Cardin's Aura had slammed into the red, resting squarely at 6%.

"And that's the match! Jaune Arc wins!"

He stood in silence as the watching crowd erupted into cheers. He stared down at Crocea Mors, a grin overtaking his lips. _I won?_

He looked up at the gathered students. It was a sizeable class all things considered, but everyone he knew was there sans 3 of the members of CFVY of course; Velvet sat off to one side clapping in excitement for him. He spotted RWBY near the front, all of them clapping and cheering in some form or another, including Yang giving him a two-pinkie whistle and his Snow Angel giving him a polite golf-clap. Beside them, the rest of his team were absolutely ecstatic: Nora was hugging the very air out of poor Ren's lungs and whooping for Jaune while said green-clad Huntsman desperately threw Jaune a thumbs up. Beside them, Pyrrha beamed with joy, and perhaps some pride as well.

And sitting there beside her, Jacob was grinning madly, shaking a fist and shouting "Yeah, you go Jaune!"

Jaune felt his heart flare with pride. _I won!_

"No fair teach," he heard Cardin moan through his teeth, "I knocked him out of the ring twice."

Professor Goodwitch walked up between the two of them, staring directly at Winchester. "Yes Cardin, that is true," she said, "but today's matches were about Aura endurance, not tournament technical defeats. If it had been yesterday, you would have indeed won; However, Mr. Arc took the victory this time around."

Cardin smashed his fist into the tile in frustration.

Professor Goodwitch turned to Jaune. "As for you Mr. Arc, congratulations. I know you've been looking forward to eventually beating Mr. Winchester in an even fight."

"Well, yeah I have been kinda looking forwards to the day I did, I just... didn't expect it so soon."

Goodwitch simply smiled and said, "I'm glad to see your training sessions with Ms. Nikos have been of great value to you."

Jaune felt the blood rush from his face. "Wait, how do you know—"

"Mr. Muller informed me."

"...Ah, right," he said as he felt the blood flow rush back.

Glynda turned back the rest of the student audience. With a raised voice, she said, "Alright students, I believe that will have to be our last spar for this class today. Remember to continue training in both combat prowess and your Aura; both are crucial to a Huntsman, and slacking in one or another can have dangerous consequences. Class dismissed."

Jaune hopped down from the raised platform as it returned to the ground, only to be glomped by Ruby and Nora in excited glee.

"I can't believe it Jaune, you actually beat him!" Ruby squealed in delight.

"That's our fearless leader!" Nora said as she crushed Jaune in a bearhug.

"Guys, it was nothing," he insisted as the rest of their teams approached.

"Nothing my ass," Yang replied as she reached up and tousled his hair, "You nailed him on that last one."

"Well, proper form will certainly help in a fight," Weiss said as she came up to him with an impressed smile.

He felt his courage jump again; time to show off a little for Weiss. "Well, I'm glad you were impressed, Weiss. Perhaps we could later—"

A finger in his face stopped the thought in its tracks. "I'm going to cut you off right there and vehemently say no, Jaune."

 _Well, it was worth a shot._

Just then, Pyrrha walked up to Jaune and gave him a gentle but firm hug. He couldn't help but return the hug back.

"Jaune, I'm so proud of you," she said as she continued to hug him. "That fight went amazingly."

"Thanks Pyrrha, but I would have never gotten here without you helping with my training," he replied.

She let loose of his hug and backed off a step, still grinning ear-to-ear. "True," she said, "but this is _your_ victory. Savor it!"

She wasn't wrong. The last month of training with her had give his fighting skill a considerable boost; Where once he struggled to even land a blow on Cardin almost a month ago, now he actually able to closely compete with Cardin. Granted, that mostly consisted of keeping his shield up a ton throughout the fight, but regardless the point remained.

He had finally won a fight against Cardin.

About that time Jacob walked up, a grin across his face too. "He-hey, there's the _Arc d' Triomphe!_ "

"Uh, what?" Jaune asked in confusion.

"Joke from home, forgot that context's important," Jacob replied with a hand wave. "Regardless, nice job out there." He then extended his hand up to give him a high five.

Jaune would be remiss if he didn't respond in kind. Their high-five was solid and loud, more than evident by the stinging across his palm.

"Honestly I should thank you as well," he said as he put a hand on Jacob's shoulder, "your style and Cardin's match up pretty closely, outside of the stuff Pyrrha's taught you."

"heh-heh, I'll take that as a compliment," Jacob chuckled. Soon he was joined by several other giggles and laughs as well.

Right about then, Professor Goodwitch walked over to them. "Jacob," she asked calmly, "might I talk with you for a minute?"

There was a moment of silence before Jacob said, "It's probably nothing serious. Go on ahead, I'll catch up with you guys." He turned around and walked away with Professor Goodwitch leading the way.

A collective sense of dread overtook them all. Not a single smile remained amongst them as he walked off to the opposite exit and leaned into the doorframe with the Professor standing opposite to him.

"I'm sure he's fine," Blake said distantly, "We probably aren't doing him any favors waiting around nervously for him." With that said, she began to follow the rest of the student body as the exodus _en masse_ continued.

Yang and Weiss followed after her, with Ren and Nora hesitantly following behind them. Now, there were only Jaune, Pyrrha and Ruby waiting in the room. All the while, Jacob was fixated on his conversation with Professor Goodwitch.

"What do you think's going on?" Jaune asked.

"Professor Goodwitch is probably saying he's been doing a good job with his studies with... y'know, everything that's happened," Ruby said nervously.

Pyrrha only continued to stare off at him with a worried look. She had been practically attached to him for the first few days after everything went down, though the reasoning of it simply being because he was their friend wasn't exactly holding water. Her worry seemed a bit more rooted in something, though what was probably not for Jaune to pry into; Whatever it was, it was way too personal to ask about at this stage in their partnership.

"Hey," Jaune said as he placed a hand on her shoulder, "He'll be alright. Come on, we're not doing him any favors by waiting around worrying."

After a second, she sighed and turned to smile at him. "Right, let's catch up with the others."

And as they left, Jaune could swear on his grandma's grave that Jacob took a confused double take.

* * *

"I'm sorry Glynda, but while I think I heard you right, I wanna double check here; You want me to go through _what?_ "

"Initiation," she replied to the incredulous man, "to officially make you a member of our organization."

"But... Why now? I would expect something like this at a later date, y'know, once I've proven myself to the cause rightly."

Professor Goodwitch glanced around as the student body filed out of the auditorium. "Ozpin wouldn't want me telling you this but... we've been receiving word from our contacts out in the field. _She_ 's on the move, and we're looking to all avenues for people we can trust."

 _Qrow's message about Salem,_ Jacob thought to himself as he studied the professor vehemently. _QUEEN HAS PAWNS._

"So, what does that have to do with me officially becoming part of your organization?"

Her eyes narrowed in frustration. "A lot, actually. It means that Ozpin trusts you enough to let you become part of our upper echelon. "

Jacob stared at her for a long time, studying her for any signs that this was a ruse. He found none. _They see me as trustworthy enough to let into the Inner Circle,_ he thought to himself.

Another angle to save Pyrrha and Penny by way of.

Jacob felt a chill crawl up his spine. "Okay then, so... what do I have to do for this initiation?"

"Nothing seriously concerning, all things considered. A simple recitement and a formal anointing," she answered as lowly as she could probably to avoid bringing undue attention to them.

"...Wait, that's it?"

"Yes," she replied.

Jacob felt a sense of disappointment in the back of his mind. "I was half-expecting some kind of blood oath or something," he said.

"Well," she continued, crossing her arms, "back when I was first initiated we actually _did_ do a blood oath, but Ozpin decided that it was too antiquated for modern times."

"That's a shame," he replied to Glynda, "I mean it is kinda archaic—and a bit unsanitary sure—but it's kind of a noble gesture at least in my opinion."

"Regardless, Ozpin wanted to ask if you would be up to the initiation tonight," she asked.

"Uhm... besides my training with Jaune and Pyrrha, I have nothing else on my plate, so sure."

"When should you be done with that?"

"Uh, we spend about 1 hour, starting at 8:00, so 9:00. It'll be 9:20 though if you want me to not stink to high heaven through the whole ordeal."

Glynda visibly relaxed after he confirmed a time. "I'll let Ozpin know. See you tonight, then."

In the back of his mind, Jacob thought, _Adhering to a set schedule to the letter._ _She and my mother would get along amazingly._

At the same time, at the forefront of his mind, Jacob felt a rare joke coming on. "It's a date then," he said with a smile.

Glynda had to take a double-take after she heard that. For a second, he worried that she had taken offense to the remark, and God only knows the true damage she could inflict with that riding crop of hers. However his fears were quickly dashed when Glynda let out an amused giggle.

Glynda Goodwitch was giggling. _OOC moment ahoy,_ his mind warned sarcastically, _man the torpedo bays._

"Funny," Professor Goodwitch replied after finishing with her giggling, "But I'm afraid I'm not one for dating someone 14 years my junior."

That raised Jacob's eyebrows. "Get out," he said with a chuckle, "No way you're that old. You do _not_ look 34!"

She rolled her eyes. "I hear that a lot more than I really should," she responded.

"No, seriously," he replied back, "I thought you were like at the most 27 or so."

"Oh stop," she said with a laugh. "I get too many love letters from students as it is!"

The two shared a laugh for a few seconds, the tension of the situation disappearing into the aether. "Well in that case, I should probably get out of your hair before... y'know, _teenage gossip._ "

"Of course," she replied as she came down from her laughter. "We'll be waiting for you outside the Tower when you're ready."

"Right," he said as he began to leave the auditorium, only to turn around halfway to the door and shut back to her, "I'll see you then!"

Jacob was feeling on top of the world; everything was going according to _keikaku._ His training was coming along at an accelerated rate thanks to Pyrrha, he was getting in deeper and deeper with Ozpin and the Ozluminati, and for the first time in his life he had a social circle that was more than 7 people.

He slowed down as he really thought harder about that; he was _friends_ with RWBY and JNPR. 6 months ago he would have been laughing at the mere insanity of such an idea of being friends with characters that were supposed to be fictional, and yet here he was, in their ranks essentially.

A tiny fragment of him gleamed the idea that the timeline his actions were forming was some other reality's version of RWBY... or at least a reboot. Granted that notion was immediately thrown on its head in a suplex before being tossed off of London Bridge for being too egotistical for Jacob's taste.

About that time he rounded the corner to the left and came face to face with the wry and mischievous smile of Yang Xiao Long. She was leaning to her left side off the wall of the building, holding her down-tilted head in her hand.

Jacob felt his stomach drop out. _Oh God Yang, please don't tell me you heard all that._

"Well well well," she said, leaving her perch and beginning to circle him like a hawk. "I was wondering what that was all about. Now I know what it is, you dirty little sneak."

Her grin only widened as Jacob's stomach and heart mashed together in a horrified instant of terror. He was caught, he was sure of it; the entire plan fallen to ruin because Yang Xiao Long actually decided to investigate something for a change.

"You're trying to get to Ms. Goodwitch's heart, you dirty little MILF-chaser!"

Jacob couldn't suppress the confusion that bubbled up. "Huh?"

"Don't play dumb with me, you're hot for cougars, aren't you?"

Jacob's mind was practically running circles trying to wrap his head around what the situation had suddenly boiled down to. "What, no, no! I mean she's attractive, but God Above no! That's like 3 different breeds of no wrapped up into one."

She shook her head as she said, "Then what was all the laughing and asking-about-her age all about? Not to mention, 'It's a date then'? I mean, I only started hearing everything at about that point, but still..."

"Okay first thing," he began, "that was because of the second part because she's a solid decade my senior. And the second thing is that comment was made in jest."

"Yeah, yeah, I don't believe it," she replied with a dismissive wave. Even with his denials she held the upper hand in the moment, though now he was pretty certain he was spared from having spilled the secret.

Even then, knowing Yang this would be a source of teasing for weeks or probably months to come.

About that time an idea struck him; She was right in one aspect.

"Well, I do suppose I have a thing for blonde bombshells."

Yang's smile dropped in surprise. "O-oh, really?" She tried to conjure a wry smile, but the facade was wavering. Jacob had just started assuming control of the situation, and Yang was not liking it.

Jacob shrugged as he started pacing with his hands behind his back, saying to her, "Yeah; platinum blondes, dirty blondes, _golden_ blondes, Blonde has been #1 for hair color for me." He looked at her with an arched eyebrow and his own smile. For a brief second, part of him was liking having control of a conversation. "Although," he continued, "hair color is just one piece to the puzzle."

Without warning though, control was suddenly wrestled from Jacob's grasp as Yang shot him a cheeky grin. "If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, only in your wet dreams, Blue-Boy."

That surprised Jacob. He turned to look at her to speak and he couldn't help but notice a faint pink tinge was lining the bridge of her nose. "Again, first of all," Jacob began with a chuckle, "You're the lewd-minded one here, Yang Xiao-Long if you're implying something like that. And second of all, I haven't even kissed a girl romantically before, so I'm probably the closest guy here to being labeled the romantic bottom-of-the-barrel; In other words, you could do a lot better than me."

It was her turn to be surprised. "Wait, what?! You've _never_ kissed a girl?" She was barely suppressing a laugh now.

Jacob rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Yes," he said in annoyance, "I've never gotten to first base. The closest I got was in freshman year at high school with a girl I went to Homecoming with, and at the last second when I got her back to her house I chickened out and kissed her on the cheek instead."

At that comment Yang burst out into a howling laugh. Jacob simply stood there to let her get the laughter out of her system, arching an eyebrow at her.

After a minute of her laughing, with her doubled over in so much laughter, he dryly asked, "Did you get it out of your system?"

"Ah-hah-mostly, I ju-ha-ha-st... Oh God, I can't take that seriously." She righted herself as her fit came to an end. He studied her and in turn she stared at him for a few seconds, the smile from the laughing fit still echoing across her visage.

Jaco couldn't help but return the smile."Yeah, I guess that is pretty pathetic. I mean I've always wanted to—then again what guy hasn't—but I have been turned down on relationships, let alone anything near first base for as long as I can remember."

Yang looked away for a second, the metaphorical gears turning away in her head. After a second, a faint blush came back to her face as she lit up with an idea.

"Alright then" she said to him, "kiss me."

Jacob felt the blood in his face pool into his core for the second time in the last 15 minutes as his stomach decided to replicate a Six Flags roller coaster. "What?"

"You heard me, give me a kiss; knock me off my feet, _make me swoon in ecstasy~_ ," she added with a comically melodramatic tone that was clearly poking fun at the old-fashioned romance ideals.

Meanwhile, part of Jacob's mind was screaming, _She's_ _17 years old stupid, Chris Hansen would like a word with you in the other room!_

"Well, I—I mean... are you sure about this?" He asked.

" _Pfft,_ No big deal," she said with a dismissive wave, "it's just a kiss."

Jacob was torn at the seams: On the one hand, she was 17 years old, and by Earth standards—more or less American standards but who really cared—that made her a minor. Granted, he wasn't exactly up to speed on the law of Remnant since, y'know, Monty was more focused on telling a compelling story and leaving the world-building to auxiliary videos and what not, but still...

On the other hand, it was Yang Xiao Long. For all he knew, saying no to an offer of a kiss could mean he gets his ass kicked. And besides, he wasn't lying when he said he had an affinity for blondes.

After a long second of bracing himself, he gave his answer. "Okay, let's do it."

Yang grew a cocky smile in response; she had won the battle of wills. "Pucker up."

Jacob hesitantly walked closer, his stomach knotting endlessly. "I, uh... I hope you don't mind the facial hair."

"Can't say I've ever kissed a guy with facial hair," she replied, "so I'm not gonna judge until I've tried it."

He steeled himself for what was to come; this go around he had to look slightly up at the girl he was talking to, since Yang was standing tall at 5'8". While he wasn't the least bit experienced in kissing, he did know you generally don't pucker up, you don't put a lot of force into the kiss, and you supposedly... "go with it," whatever that entailed. His hand reached for hers and gently took it; he noticed as his fingers brushed hers that there was the odd callous here and there not unlike his own, though hers were probably from working on Bumblebee in her spare time or from the constant training instead of his constant abuse of his hands from model-making.

The two leaned in close, practically feeling each other's breath. Jacob's mind was vehemently apologizing to both Monty and Barbara Dunkelman for what he and Yang were about to do; Granted, it wasn't really anything bad, but it was for all intents and purposes very awkward from a "meta" perspective.

He went in for the kiss, heart pounding, stomach churning, brow sweating...And about that time out of the corner of his left eye he spotted Nora rounding the corner.

"Hey guys," she sang as she turned to look at them, "What's taking you so—oh! Oh my God, look at you two!~ _"_

Jacob and Yang were barely an inch from locking lips, frozen in surprise and partial horror. Both quickly backed out with Jacob vehemently stammering, "It-it wasn't exactly what it looked like, Nora, Yang and I had been just talking and—"

"—It's a long story and let's just put it at that, Nora," Yang cut him off with an embarrassed huff and a tousle of her lion's mane. "Come on, let's go get lunch."

Nora reacted without a second thought, turning about and beginning to walk away.

In that split second, Yang glanced back to Jacob, a smile planted on her face.

In a second's notice, she had reached in close, and locked lips with him.

Jacob felt the biggest jolt that he had ever felt in his life thunder up his spine, leaving goosebumps up his back and down his arms in its wake; Whether it was from surprise or bliss his mind wasn't able to even guess. His stomach was mush at this point to such a degree that he doubted he could eat for the rest of today. His heart was screaming, adrenaline roaring through his veins like a dragon chasing a knight. His breath was hitched beyond what he thought possible for himself. He felt shock and surprise at the forefront of his mind, but the back of his mind was buzzing with an insane level of euphoria. He felt her lips, soft and warm on his own. It wasn't even like a peck, their lips had locked just shy of a French kiss; Then again, Yang was the kind of girl to go all in on everything, including something like a kiss. Jacob's mind reeled like he had been struck by a sucker punch, and yet it felt like he was standing on a Goddamned cloud.

And just like that she ended the kiss, pulling away gently but quickly, like a wisp of wind unbefitting of a roiling tempest like her. To his mind what felt like a solid minute had barely lasted a mere 7 seconds.

Jacob's mind was the closest it could get to the idea of "short-circuited" as he processed everything that he had just felt. Yang on the other hand, gave him a coy smile and said, "Not bad at all... for your first time around." She turned to follow Nora, leaving him outside of the auditorium in a stupor.

Jacob meanwhile remained in general shock of what had just happened.

Yang Xiao Long had just stolen a kiss from him.

His first kiss on the lips was from a person that was supposed to be fictional.

And the only word that could describe it was... _electric._

A smile erupted across his face without any sense of control as his mind was only able to think one thing.

 _Eat it, weeaboos._

* * *

Hours later though, that newly-built confidence had already begun to be tested.

 _9:25, I'm definitely late,_ Jacob thought to himself as he quickly walked to the base of Beacon hair was still wet from the Marine Corps shower he had to take to make certain he was still on time, but sadly that still didn't end up playing in his favor.

Training with Pyrrha and Jaune had gone on fine as usual, with tonight being more focused on blocking with the sword. It was a bit daunting considering that Pyrrha got carried away during the spar and became a whirling dervish of blood red hair and bronze-gold armor that nearly knocked him off the building.

Despite the near-death experience Pyrrha's string of apologies was so adorable Jacob was more than quick to forgive her.

As he walked up closer, he spotted Ozpin drinking from his mug as usual, though this late at night it was no doubt hot cocoa. Standing beside him was Glynda, prim and proper as ever. In her hand was a small, crystal-blue vial with some clear liquid inside. Whatever it was Jacob had a bad feeling about it even from 40 yards out.

"Mr. Muller," Ozpin shouted to Jacob, "Thank you for coming on such short notice. I trust it was not too inconvenient to come here?"

"Hardly sir, if anything I should be the one apologizing for being late," Jacob replied.

"Indeed. Perhaps your training sessions with Mr. Arc and Ms. Nikos may be safer if you were to ask us to use the auditorium instead."

Jacob took a second to register what Oz had said. "Oh uh, you saw that?"

Ozpin gave him a smug grin and a raised brow. "Ever since you three first started those after-night sessions I've had the privilege to observe them via the security cameras. It's been interesting to watch you I may add; You in particular seem very attached to Ms. Nikos."

"Well... what can I say, she's got a magnetic personality," Jacob joked.

Ozpin's face lit up with a smile. "She does seem your type, more so than Ms. Xiao Long if I may say so myself."

Jacob felt the blood in his face drop down. "Oh, oh no! I mean, Pyrrha's a beautiful and sweet lady, but we're really friends at the moment and I'm pretty sure she's got her eye on Jaune. Besides, I can't say that she and I are compatible persay." To Jacob, the very notion of impeding on Arkos let alone dating Pyrrha felt more than just unusual. Being what basically amounted to a die-hard Arkos fan, the idea was... kinda... well, _heretical_ to use a 40k term.

"You never know until you've tried," Ozpin said in earnest. "Although you and Ms. Xiao Long do have a polarized chemistry if I may say so."

"Sure, I guess," Jacob said with an agreeing shrug. "For as little as we've really talked it as been pretty entertaining each time." Jacob's distant smile as he thought about their entendre-offs was suddenly cut short. "Wait a minute, are you playing _matchmaker_ with your _students_!?"

Ozpin chuckled as the group walked to the elevator waiting inside. "Well, to some extent I suppose I have with your group mostly; For all the time I have spent training future Huntsmen and Huntresses, never have I seen a group like yours become so close-knit, with you sitting somewhere in the thick of it all; Romances are bound to bloom soon enough."

"Well that's fine and lovely," Jacob said with a sigh, "but playing matchmaker with me isn't that easy since every member of RWBY and JNPR are under the legal age of adulthood; even beginning to date would be a one-way ticket to the Slammer."

Ozpin and Glynda both eyed him with curiosity. After a second, realization lit up Ozpin's eyes. "Oh, I presume that is your people's law on dating?"

Jacob felt a sense of incredulity grow in his mind; he knew exactly where this was going. "Don't tell me... it's significantly different for Huntsmen?"

"Students are considered legal adults once they join a Huntsman Academy, all privileges and such taken into consideration; If they are old enough to die in combat protecting the Kingdoms, they are old enough to understand the repercussions of a one-night stand."

Jacob's hand desperately wanted to impact his face in absolute exasperation.

"Another case of culture clash I presume?" Ozpin asked.

"No kidding. Back home the age of adulthood is officially 18, and dating between two people on opposite sides of that marker ain't just tough, from a legal perspective it can land you in the slammer. Granted, only if you actually do... y'know... _go all the way,_ but it still isn't a good idea," Jacob finished with an embarrassed neck scratch.

The two professors stole a look of surprise at one another. "My my," Ozpin began, "sounds like your town tends to be on the conservative side I presume?"

Jacob hesitated; he hated talking politics before on Earth and even here he wasn't all that comfortable. "Really, it's actually more of the opposite as of late; radical liberalism is all the rage right now amongst most my age, though I myself am actually a conservative outlier for all intents and purposes."

"Really," Glynda asked as they began to walk into the circular lobby and then onwards to the open doors of the elevator. "You do strike me as a bit more along those lines I suppose..."

Jacob raised a hand up and began counting off some of his personal opinions to them: "Homosexuality's okay with me so long as you don't go making public displays out of it, Patriotism is fine but nationalism is a no-go, free market enterprise with minimal federal input makes for the best economic system, there are only two genders despite what some nutters say—I won't get into _those_ details—and they are based on biology, Aborting a fetus is the murder of a child and therefore one of the most heinous acts imaginable..." he stopped to take a breath before continuing, "and if you truly want peace in your time you always look for a compromise but you should never be afraid to pull the gun and let slip your hounds of war."

Somewhere back home Jacob imagined a rabid Tumblrite losing their mind in a frothing sea of angst and rage. He could barely suppress the smile from that image.

Both stared at him for a long hard minute before Ozpin began chuckling in humor. "My word, I didn't realize you were that opinionated."

"I don't speak my mind unless someone directly asks me of the subject, from which I will defend my beliefs but in the same instance I do my best to keep an open ear should I be proven wrong. Granted, I don't always know when I _have_ been, but it's better to be open to such things."

Ozpin continued to chuckling; clearly Jacob had tickled some sort of funny bone. Glynda however looked at him in a reassessing eye, as if she were trying to find something hiding within; Jacob wasn't unaware of the comparison she was probably making at the moment.

"I take it I'm reminding you of General James Ironwood? I heard tell that he's of generally similar mindsets on things," Jacob said with concealed sarcastic intent; Ironwood seemed at times the only one with an actual head on his shoulders amongst the older denizens of the world of _RWBY_.

"Admittedly yes," she began gently, "but unlike him you've never seemed as... cold as James is."

"Well, when James arrives in a week's time, I'm sure he'll be glad to meet you," Ozpin said. "But time is wasting. Come, your initiation awaits."

They stepped into the elevator and immediately the door closed behind them. "So," Jacob asked, "is the initiation done in your office or... downstairs or something?"

Ozpin punched in the code and the lift lurched downwards towards the basement and Amber's stasis pod.

Jacob felt a twinge of guilt. He had meant to visit Amber earlier that week, but with the... _event_ at the docks he had completely forgotten about visiting her.

 _Not that it will matter long-term,_ he thought dejectedly.

"So Mr. Muller," Ozpin continued as the elevator descended, "You are aware of the legend of the Four Maidens, and how it is for the most part true... but tell me, what about the legend of The Two Brothers?

Jacob felt his stomach turn on itself. _Oh shit,_ he thought, _how did I forget about the damned brother-gods?_

On the mental battlefield his Christian roots defensively dug in as he answered Ozpin. "The legend of the Two Brother-Gods? You can't be seriously saying that's the real deal."

Ozpin stared back at him with an apologetic look; Jacob had to wonder how many minds he had shattered with that revelation. But considering that Jacob was here instead of on Earth, Jacob wouldn't hold his breath on it being proven that his faith was wrong.

 _The grueling tests of faith just keep coming,_ Jacob thought to himself.

"I'm sorry to be the one to break it to you Jacob," Ozpin said with a somber tone, "but there is some truth to that legend as well."

"So Grimm and Humanity are the byproducts of the two brothers... How delightfully poetic. What they started we must end..."

The elevator dinged as they reached the bottom level. Out they stepped into the emerald green hallway, the light at the end dim but for the faint glow from Amber's stasis tube.

"Our organization was founded in secrecy with the intent to act from the shadows. We would spare the people the true horrors awaiting in the big wide world, though Grimm would be impossible to hide."

"You would deal with Salem and her lot," Jacob assessed.

Ozpin nodded, "Yes, and all those who would seek the Maidens' powers for their own gains rather than the benefit of the world. At first our order consisted of gallant knights that protected the Maidens, but as time went on we realized secrecy and admittedly clandestine tactics would be the only way to keep them safe."

Upon hearing of that, Jacob was faintly reminded of the Knights-Errant and their successor forces, the Grey Knights and the—

"Jacob, my boy!"

Jacob's head snapped around as he heard his name be called from the direction of the elevator. Vulkan was getting off the elevator, a big and cheerful smile that lit up the dim green room on his face.

"Hey, Vulkan! What are you doing here?" Jacob asked.

"I came to watch your initiation," replied the smithy as he walked up. "I heard about what happened at the docks... I'm sorry that happened to you."

Jacob felt the levity in his heart drop like a rock. Every so often the boy—Ferris'—terrified face would cross his mind's eye, leaving him to be struck with a momentary slab of self doubt. But Pyrrha would respond to this by taking his hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. Usually her smiling face was enough to lull the heartache back into the abyss.

How ironic that the girl he promised to save was in fact now saving him. Funny little world we live in, isn't it.

"RWBY and JNPR have been helping me come to terms with it," Jacob said as he fought back the urge to get emotional, "But I hope his parents and his friends will come to terms with it too. I had originally hoped to apologize to them but they are adamant about keeping away from me at the moment."

Vulkan placed a hand on his shoulder; in the back of Jacob's mind he noticed it felt like cold steel for some reason. "They will come to peace in time," Vulkan said in a soft rumble, "but in the meantime it would do you good to let your friends help you let go of it. Now, as for tonight, I must apologize for being a little late. I thought I would dress in my Sunday best for a change."

It was at the moment that Vulkan said it that Jacob noticed he was adorned in armor. Not knightly armor like what you would expect in a castle, grey and drab and to all the world a human-sized tin can to roast in or get knocked on your back like a turtle.

His armor was... for lack of a better phrase, very ornate and Remnantine version of Space Marine Power Armor.

Salamander green stood out amidst the dim light, bright and cheerful in contrast to the secretive and ominous atmosphere of the room. Around the green parts of the armor were intricately-painted facsimiles of dragon scales that would probably seem realistic at a distance but at this far away were clearly painted on, albeit with incredible detail. Swirling baroque patterns adorned his chestpiece in various tones of bronze and gold, looking like roiling waves against a background of jungle green. On his back was clearly a cape of some form of lizard hide, the brown scales sewn into a black cape that tapered into a wavy pattern of red and bright yellow on the end of the cape.

In the back of Jacob's mind, the warning sirens were telling him that this _couldn't_ just be a facsimile of the Forgefather, but he suppressed it as he marveled over the armor. "Wow," was all he could muster from his voice.

Vulkan laughed heartily. "I take it you like the armor?"

"It's amazing," Jacob said like a small boy seeing something for the first time, his eyes lighting up with curiosity. He noticed that unlike on true Space Marine Armor there was no backpack that was usually used to hold the suit's power supply. Alongside that, the armor only added a few extra inches on him, putting Vulkan at just under 7 feet tall; supposedly Space Marines stood betwen 7 and 8 feet tall, with Salamanders being on the larger side thanks in no small part to the overall gigantism of their Primarch being passed down to them.

"I can imagine it's pretty cumbersome," Jacob tested in hesitance.

"Not at all, actually. The armor is actually light as a feather, but hard like a Taijitu's scales. Here," he said as he took off his gauntlet, "try it."

He plopped the massive gauntlet in Jacob's hands. Jacob immediately braced for something along the lines of 10-20 pounds to come crashing down into his hand... only to be surprised as it barely even weighed 5 pounds in his hands.

"Wow," Jacob said with a chuckle, "What is this stuff?"

"Mithril," Vulkan replied, "Pre-War metal that was somewhat hard to come by. I was gifted it by the Council of Vale after I helped evacuate Mountain Glenn in the aftermath of..." He didn't need to finish that; Jacob remembered that the settlement of Mountain Glenn was overrun by Grimm prior to the events of the show. It was in the underground caverns that doubled as a subway system that many of the citizens met their demise when Vale decided to seal off the tunnels... trapping them in with hordes of Grimm. Vulkan had helped save lives during that fiasco, but not everyone got out alive.

Jacob felt his resolve grow in his mind; even if he wouldn't save many lives during the Battle of Beacon... he would make certain those he did want to save _would_ be saved, or he'd die trying to save them.

But just then Jacob's mind suddenly did a double take. _Wait, wait, did he just say **mithril!?**_ _As in the stuff the dwarves mine in Lord of the Rings?!_

"Enough, Vulkan" said Ozpin, "I don't think we want to ruin this special occasion. That was long ago, but now is the time to celebrate. After all, Mr. Muller is being welcomed into the Inner Circle."

Vulkan shook his head and seemed to banish the old thoughts back into oblivion. The smile came back, albeit weaker than when he first arrived. "You're right," he said "I still saved many lives, many of them still close friends of mine. And each of those lives we save can mean all the difference in the world, whether it be one life or many."

Jacob couldn't help but conjure a smile of his own. "Right... so Oz," he said after a second of silence, "shall we get started?"

"Right. Follow me please." The continued walking down the long corridor, but suddenly hung a sharp left halfway down. What Jacob had previously thought was a short branching corridor and a bare wall was revealed to be a door hidden in the wall, revealing the tiniest bit of warm candlelight bleeding through the tiny crevice between the doors. Ozpin went in first, opening the door fully. Jacob stepped in and was met with a room that wouldn't look out of place in a fantasy game.

It was a sizeable and oblong room, about 20 feet tall, 20 feet wide and about 30 feet from where Jacob stood in the door to the back wall. A massive ornate candelabra hung overhead, faint light from the candles casting the room in dim light and faint shadows. The room was painted a pale tan color, accented with white Roman columns and a deep maroon stone floor. Their shoes clacked against the stone and echoed up into the ceiling, every step sounding like a falling stone coming down the side of a mountain.

"Jacob, if you would, please stand in the center of that circle there," Ozpin said as he pointed with his cane.

Elaborate markings that looked like something out of an alchemist's book lined the circle, creating an intricate symbol that from where Jacob was standing didn't look like anything. 20 equal segments stood out along the edge of the circle, though all but two were blanked out.

When Jacob turned to look at Ozpin, Ozpin had taken to standing directly opposite of the doors, staring back at him with a blank expression though his eyes bored into Jacob's like drills. Behind Ozpin Jacob spotted a golden sigil—A massive stylized "I"— and a statue of a hooded man.

 _Illuminati much,_ Jacob thought to himself.

"Take a knee, bow your head and place your right hand over your heart." Jacob did exactly as Ozpin directed.

Ozpin walked up close to him, taking his cane and putting it to Jacob's shoulder as if he were being knighted.

"Recite these words and heed their meaning: 'I, Jacob Muller...'"

"I, Jacob Muller..."

"'Swear to uphold the protection of the Four Maidens and their secret...'"

Jacob repeated back everything verbatim as Ozpin said them first:

"'To honor their sacrifice with my own... to protect them at all costs... to carry their secret with me to my grave and the graves of those who will follow after me... and should I fail in my task... will risk life and limb... risk all I hold dear...'"

Jacob hesitated on that one. "...Risk all that I hold dear..."

"'To save our world...'"

"To save our world..."

"'From those who would abuse their power.'"

"From those who would abuse their power."

With that, Ozpin tapped his cane on Jacob's left shoulder and then his right before backing up out of the circle. Jacob rose to his feet and looked around at the rest of the group. Glynda was smiling kindly and yet with a visible tinge of sorrow; _She's sorry that I'm taking on a task like this._

His vision turned to Vulkan was in turn greeted by a pondering look. Jacob could see the wheels turning in the smithy's mind as he stared at Jacob.

About that time Jacob noticed that the circle underneath was glowing. It was glowing the same color as his Aura, perhaps a might bit darker to an almost lapis-blue color. The center of the space glowed brightly, though the tiles along the edge remained dim and lifeless.

Out of the corner of his eye, he just make out that Vulkan's eyes were as wide as saucepans.

"Well Jacob," Ozpin said as he stood there directly in front of the statue, "That makes it official."

"...I'm in?"

"Yes. As of now you are the newest member of our order; You are the newest heir to Malcador's task."

Jacob felt his thoughts come to a screeching halt. "Malcador?" he asked.

"Yes, our order's founder." Ozpin sidestepped as he allowed Jacob a full minute to gaze upon the statue that was sitting behind him.

Hooded man, old feature, a look carved into the effigy itself that spoke of years of untapped knowledge.

Jacob's rationale screamed that it couldn't be the same man that walked beside Warhammer 40,000's Emperor.

It couldn't be Malcador The Sigilite... could it?

Suddenly, Vulkan's existence here as well as that Gabe fellow had more harrowing implications than it initially had.

"Welcome to the Inquisition, Jacob Muller."

* * *

If there is a list of universal constants shared across all realities, one of the most crucial rules can be summed up as this: Crime is always there, no matter what reality you hail from.

This rule was no different for the Kingdoms of Remnant. Dust-runner mafias from Atlas, drug-smugglers out of Mistral, street gangs in Vacuo, and of course the Vale crime bosses. While the normal people of Vale lived out their daily lives, spared the cruel and abject horrors of the Grimm armies what laid at their front doorstep by the firm by kind gaze of the Huntsmen and Huntresses that have stood vigilant over the last eighty-plus years, deep below in the belly of the beast...

That was where the real monsters came out to play.

His gloved fist slammed into the steel desk laid out before him. "Damn animals! Can't even run a Dust raid without fucking up in some way."

The tension building in his skull was suddenly halted as a pair of small, delicate hands began to massage his shoulders, the thumbs digging into his shoulder blades and rubbing with the grace of an angel: his angel in all reality, she was the only one who knew that was the one spot that was generally at fault for his headaches for whatever reason. Like hell he was gonna get caught because he had to go to a damn doctor.

"Thank you Neo. Oh yeah, that's hitting the right spot."

Inside the makeshift HQ-tent that he was now sitting in, a string of leads and plans were strewn about with reckless abandon across the table-tacked map of the city of Vale sitting in the center of the room. Shipment dates, coordinates, dropoff points and hideouts were charted and strewn across the table as a standalone light fixture glowered menacingly down onto it with a sickly yellow light. Outside the tent's flaps, a dozen or so of his own lackeys and somewhere in the nature of 30 White Fang bustled across his field of vision, loading crates and unpackaging weapons from within the massive, dark and dank warehouse they had set up in. Outside, what morning light was visible peeked in through tiny windows and the occasional pockmark in the wall from obvious signs of previous gunfights and raids.

Roman Torchwick suppressed the urge to massage his temples as well. Those idiot White Fang couldn't even manage a few kids during that raid a couple nights ago, how was he supposed to carry out his "mission"?

 _Mission,_ he thought with spite, _heh! I'm no common, brain-dead soldier; I'm Roman Torchwick, kingpin of Vale's underground! I rule the roost and only answer to those I want to listen to._

Although, considering the damage he had seen his benefactor perform, he was glad that he was on her good side.

He looked back behind him at his partner in crime; at 4'10" in heels, she was as physically intimidating as a butterfly. But it wasn't her tiny stature that had racked up a solid body count in their 3 years of partnership; rather it was her cold-hearted ruthlessness and love of poking holes in people with her parasol-sword that set to that task.

Heterochromatic eyes blinked as they made contact with his own, changing from pink in the left eye and brown in the right to outright white in the left and pink in the right. He never really knew how she was able to change her iris color like that, but part of him honestly didn't want to know.

"I know, I know," he said dejectedly, "but these idiots couldn't plan their way out of a paper bag. Why Ms. Firestarter decided to have us shore up with these animals is beyond me; if I were her I'd actually keep it on the down low and just have our crew running around for the job."

Neo let a small pout cross her face. _That would be no fun,_ it said to him, _You know I love a little mayhem_.

"A little mayhem sets the whole city on edge; cops are stepping up their game and—Oh yeah, a little lower," he interrupted himself as her massage reached the inside corners of his shoulders, "Anyway, and now our boys can't even get close to any Dust shops or shipments. How are we supposed to keep our end of the deal if we can't get the good, quality stuff?"

"My, my, an honorable thief. I thought the breed had died out an age ago."

Neo and Roman were whipped around and on their feet in seconds, braced for a fight out of near-instinctive suspicion that they were caught. Parasol and cane-cannon were raised and prepared to let slip the dogs of war.

They were met by a glowing yellow eye, hiding in the shadows. A hand raised up with its palm open and pointed up, only for the hand to be suddenly consumed in gold and red flames.

"Oh, it's _you,_ " Roman sighed, "Didn't expect you to show up like that. About blew your head off." He lowered Melodic Cudgel before nodding to Neo to put her sword down.

Out of the shadows she walked, an alluring sway to her step that probably drew the eye of every man within a city block; It probably helped she was sporting curves that could make any Atlesian runway model green with envy, and with that sway it was far more evident than it needed to be. She wore a body-hugging minidress with bare shoulders, her arms covered with ornate red and gold sleeves. She walked along in of all things _glass_ black pumps with a chain of black diamonds along her ankle.

Focusing on her face was even more distracting. Gold-amber eyes stared into his soul, accented by dark-violet eyeliner, giving her an exotic and mysterious look that screamed "come hither". She wore her ashen black hair long and off to her left side, reaching around and ending just beside her breast.

If there was one number that was really too hot for anyone to handle, it was definitely Cinder Fall.

"Roman," she began, "what happened at the docks the other night?"

Roman winced. "Goddammit, your White Fang buddies are in serious need of a little thing called subtlety. And how are you not in the loop, it's been all over the news the last week."

She ignored his biting comment. "There weren't supposed to be any loose ends, Roman, and considering what happened I have to expect that there _was_ a loose end somewhere." The flame in her hand grew bigger.

Neo began reaching for her parasol before Roman shook his head against the idea. He then turned to Cinder and said, "No one should have known about the raid at the docks, all info was under lock and key. The damn kids were simply in the right place at the wrong time."

The flame dimmed. Roman felt the tense pit in his stomach loosen its grip.

"And to top it off," Torchwick muttered, "the White Fang are now on edge because of what happened to that Ferris kid."

"I don't care about some boy dying, Roman, I care about results." You only made off with 3 crates worth when you were _supposed_ to have over 15 crates before the night was out." Walking over beside the table, Cinder gracefully traced a line with her index finger across the map of Vale, ending at Beacon Academy before she sat down on a fold-up chair, crossing her legs with a deceptive daintiness and clasping her hands together into a balled fist: a prim and proper lady, hiding a snake-like cunning beneath a beautiful visage.

"Well," he continued snidely, "As far as I'm concerned, 3 shipping crates worth of Dust is still 3 shipping crates worth of Dust. And considering how these animals are acting now, I'm glad we were at least able to get that."

The two sat in tense silence for a minute before Cinder hummed in contemplation. "This Huntsman," she began to ask, "You said that you fought him directly. What can you tell me about him?"

Roman began to wrack his brain as he remembered back to that night. "About 5'5", heavier build, broad shoulders, brown hair, brown eyes, sported a beard-stache—"

"What about his method of fighting?"

"Roman chuckled as the thought back. "Rough-and tumble in melee, but he's smart; stuck to the shadows mostly, used a couple of improvised Dust bombs to cover his escapes. But in melee... he's clearly not cream of the crop. Swung wild and strong, but the strikes he did land I felt in my fucking _teeth_. I think it's telling that he's on the older end of the student body, but I'm pretty certain he's a freshman."

"An older student starting up? Now _that_ is intriguing," Cinder hummed as she tented her fingers.

"Probably about 19 or 20," Roman suggested, "not much older than the rest. Odd thing is from what I was getting out of my duel with him is that he wasn't trained as a Huntsman. Granted, there's a couple students out there who are usually like that—"

"But it is still unusual," she mused. "What are you up to, Ozpin, to let someone so clearly out of his league into your _fine academy_?"

"All I know is that the way he was fighting, even if he didn't realize it, he was fighting with lethal intent. A couple of those swings he threw at me would have cleaved me like a damn pig in a butcher's shop if I hadn't built Cudgel of sterner stuff than his... chainsaw-sword.

"Chainsaw-sword? My my, he does sound like a brute. More a soldier than a Huntsman."

"But why does that matter?" Roman snidely asked.

"Well Roman, if anything now that I have taken the time to ponder this predicament, this can be put to good use."

Roman and Neo shared a look. "I'm sorry, come again?"

"Look around you, Roman. The White Fang are more riled and on-edge then they have ever been. That boy's death has stirred a fire in many of them, a fire that will end in terror and bloodshed."

It didn't take long for Roman to put two and two together. "You're thinking about using the kid as a martyr," he realized.

"The blood of martyrs is the seed of revolution, Roman. A Faunus boy was killed fighting for a cause he believed in, by a rather vicious Huntsman if what I heard through the grapevine is true; the Fang will be thirsty for revenge even before the time comes for the final phase of our plan."

"Whoa whoa whoa, and just what is this grand plan you've got in mind?" He walked up to her, shooting her a confused eyebrow.

Cinder's right hand left the grip of her other hand and delicately ran her finger up the length of his torso. "All in good time, my dear Torchwick. For now though continue gathering as much Dust as you can. I'll contact you directly once the time has come to continue onwards."

Somewhere behind him, he could feel Neo's piercing, territorial gaze sizing up Cinder.

"In the meantime, however, there are some changes in the plans that need to be overseen." Her grin took a malicious twist. "I have a lead on allies that might prove beneficial to our cause that I need to track down and persuade to join us."

"...Ookay, and who is that?"

"A group of mercenaries with a very... _bloody_ history. Are you familiar with The Eight Pointed Star?"

Roman suppressed the urge to call her insane right there and then; Though most civilians had never heard of it, the mark of the Eight Pointed Star was equal parts ominous and terrifying to those who were of the underbelly of Vale's society. First seen on the outskirts of the various villages dotting southeast Sanus, it quickly made its way to Vale and followed the trails between the kingdoms of Vale and Vacuo for the last 20 years, leaving criminals and innocents alike dead in its wake.

The piles were always in clusters of 8 victims.

It was... _their_ mark.

" _Very_ familiar with it," Roman said through gritted teeth.

"Good. Than you know who should be joining our _soiree_ soon."

"You're nuts if you think those 8 will follow you."

Cinder raised a delicate hand to her chest in mock hurt. "Come now Roman," she cooed, "you know better than anyone else how... _persuasive_ I can be."

"As much as I agree with that, I doubt that Wulfrik guy will follow you willingly, let alone the other 7. That one guy, maybe—Nemesis? Nemestar, whatever his name was—he's been said to have a bigger brain than the rest of them, but I highly doubt you'll get them on your side."

"Oh Roman, have a little faith in me," she said, her voice desperately trying to caress him into a sense of complacency. Unfortunately for her, those kinds of wiles only worked on him when Neo was the one doing it.

"I won't hold my breath," he said with a snark.

Her face twisted into a sly and devious smile again. "Very well," was all she said. And with that, Cinder rose to her feet and began to exit. She only briefly stopped to say, "Oh, and by the way Roman, my associates will be lying low with you for a day or two. Keep an eye on them if you can spare one, they tend to... hunt for mischief as it were." And with that said, she casually sashayed out the front of the tent and disappeared into the warehouse.

Roman groaned as he cupped his head in his hands and fell back into a chair. Beside him, Neo stood watching Cinder leave with a terrifying stink-eye.

"I'll tell you one thing Neo, working with that chick is like getting a mace to the head: painful, dizzying and too damn dangerous. Now, where's my lighter...

* * *

 **Yay, more 40Kharacters (and a Fantasy character because I ran out of ideas for an 8th member that wasn't comedic but was actually kinda threatening).**

 **So yeah, Jacob's gonna start investigating as RWBY starts investigating Roman and the White Fang, and things will get pretty interesting during The Breach later on. But first, FOOD FIGHT!**

 **Reviews, favorites, follows, all of those are welcomed happily and wholeheartedly and I will see you guys... in the next chapter. Buh-bye~!**


	18. Best Day Ever

**I can't begin to describe how much this chapter has been rattling around in my head. Regardless, Let me go ahead and say once again thank you to everyone who has been with me from the get go and everyone who has joined our lot on this wild ride.**

 **But all of that was only Volume 1.**

 **Now things get hot as we roll into Volume 2, and the ripples of Volume 1 begin to coalesce outwards...**

 **But first: FOOD FIGHT!**

 **And some more of my actual models end up in here too... *sheepish grin* (Note: Those with actual history in the tabletop game will get the pieces I'm referencing)**

* * *

 **Chapter 18: Best Day Ever**

 _"If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world."_ — _Thorin Oakenshield, The Hobbit_

* * *

It was not like Jacob to miss details in places so familiar to him, but every so often it did happen; some model piece would fall under his crafting table and he wouldn't notice for a whole week, or a paper due in class a few weeks out would go missing only to be found in the bottom of his backpack beside a textbook or two, but there always was at least one instance of it sometime within the period of a few months.

"Now, I thought I saw a familiar wing in here someplace..."

Currently kneeling on the floor of his dormroom, Jacob was bent over the top of his camo backpack, reaching deep into the bottom in hopes of finding what he thought he saw. The midday sun was cascading into the room, occasionally dimmed by the odd cloud passing overhead. Other than said odd cloud here and there, the forecast had been on point with the midday temperature closing in on 90 Fahrenheit much to his chagrin. Fortunately, the dorms were packed with their own AC units so he was spared a most grueling battle with the heat.

His desk had been finally reorganized after he chided himself for not taking care of it sooner, and the textbooks he had were neatly placed in the bookshelf beside his bed, strategically placed so as to hide the door to his room's safe. Several other books had made their way into the bookshelf as well by now, including _The Traitor's Hand_ —which he was getting a fair amount of fun from reading over the last week—his only present Heresy novel _Flight of the Eisenstein, Caves of Ice_ and several other Ciaphas Cain novels, as well as the only 40k novel he had ever actually purchased back home, the newly-released _Carrion Throne_ novel.

It had been 3 days since he had been inducted into... he still just called it the Ozluminati out of pure denial that what he thought was going on was _actually_ going on, and the feeling of being a part of the Inner Circle had yet to finish sinking in. He was now a trusted member of their group, privy to their secrets and their shady activities. It was unlike anything he had ever done before, and honestly it was kind of thrilling in a weird way. They hadn't said much of anything since then, though Vulkan had offered that his door was always open if Jacob needed to talk about it. There were no badges or markers really, just the promise of a Headmaster and the technical knighting from that evening.

By now Jacob had realized that with his newfound position he could also get close to General Ironwood and potentially work on if not outright stop the Black Queen Virus from getting into the systems. No Black Queen, no Penny vs. Pyrrha, no dead Penny, things go _hakuna matata_ from there... hopefully.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my other Inquisitor... and my Chapter Master."

As he finished looking through his backpack, he pulled his hands out and took a closer look at what he had found. In his hands were 2 more of his more prized conversions, each one with a story of their own to tell, however short their list of deeds were on the tabletop. Cradled in his left hand was a conversion he had done out of boredom of a Sister of Silence into a proxy for Inquisitor Greyfax from the Fall of Cadia. Her Sister of Silence head had been replaced with a third-party woman's head with long bangs across the forehead that was designed to look more youthful, even sporting a ponytail he had to painstakingly bend to leave room for her power pack. The boltgun in her hands now sported the arms of a bow to signal its status as a Condemnor boltgun, now particularly dangerous to Daemons and Psykers on the tabletop. Strapped aside her power pack—made from a Tempestus Scion voxcaster and a Space Marine backpack's vent—hung a Black Templar's power sword, wrapped in the parchment of an exceptionally long purity seal and painted in black along the scabbard, deep brown along the grip and silver across the handguard. The armor itself was painted in silver, shaded and extensively repainted for detail work, while the face was a very pale tone, damn-near Ruby's pallor, ironically sporting black hair with red highlights and all.

He had no affectionate name for either of them, though she had seen some solid fights in the past, the Greyfax-proxy having robbed a Chaos Sorcerer the opportunity to summon in daemonic reinforcements when The Warp swallowed the character in a very unfortunate roll for Perils.

In his other hand was the other character near and dear to him. It was a Space Marine, clad in the extensive livery of the 1st Company and sporting a massive jump pack. His chapter's armor was a dark but dull grey-blue, made manifest by him thoroughly shading Mechanicus Standard Grey in the blue Drakenhof Nightshade shader paint, with bright white shoulder pauldrons and bright green lenses for the eyes; having a number of the ancient Mk. 4 Armor sets gave his Marines a skeletal, spectral look as he had intended. Of course he stuck to the "Codex-compliant colors" fairly closely for the companies, though instead of all-white for the shoulders of his chapter like say the Ultramarines, they were instead made solid gold with no white to be found. This character however sported a shoulderpad of the white background surrounding a Crux Terminatus—a piece of armor that in the lore was said to hold a fragment of The Emperor's own armor itself—and sporting the red lining of the 3rd Company. The Marine sported two lightning claws, the right handed one a standard issue one that was simply 4 long claws on the end of a large knuckle duster, and the left handed claw being an ancient Mk. 3 version that was tantamount to a clawed gauntlet like Freddy Krueger's, index finger pointing forwards at his foe. The helmet was a standard Mk. 7 helmet with the massive scowling face and all, though a golden laurel wreathed his head. His chestpiece was the standard version of Marine armor, though it sported the twin-headed aquila rather than the skull and wings found on most. Placed along the front vents of the jump pack over the character's head Jacob had put together a sigil from a Rhino Aquila plate and an Iron Halo from the Venerable Dreadnought kit, the result looking as if a six-pointed star was shining over the aquila.

This was his Chapter Master, kitted out similarly to Kayvaan Shrike of the Raven Guard when Jacob was feeling the urge to be deep-strike happy for a change.

"Well, more to add to the roster I guess," Jacob muttered as he transferred the two over to the desk, where they soon joined the rest of his models on the back edge of the table against the wall. He looked up at the clock overhead. 11:05, lunch would be in an hour.

He turned back to his bed and immediately set his eyes on the backpack; he was certain that it had been emptied of everything when last he looked at it. How the Hell did those models end up in there? Hell, why did these models even come with him? Trying to remind him of home, of the one thing he had for a legitimate social life outside of school? What divine or demonic power was dropping these things off everywhere?

It wasn't like this reality wasn't starting to seem like a bad crossover fanfiction, oh no sir.

In the immediate aftermath of his initiation into the Inner Circle—which was now sounding like a bad Dark Angels joke at this point in time—Jacob had returned to his dorm as silent as the grave before immediately dashing to the bathroom to heave up dinner. That day had been a roller coaster of emotions, and his cast-iron stomach had finally hit its wit's end; The immediate upset came from the creeping horror that this world might not be completely Monty Oum's baby, or at the very least it has been tainted by The Grim Darkness of The 41st Millennium. He couldn't say anything outright lest he compromise his position and leave canon for much more dangerous waters, but still he was starting to wonder just how much of this world had influences of the Ol' Grimderp going on. But yet, how could it? Imperials were overbearing brutes, conformist and authoritarian to a comical degree as much as they had their crowning moments of awesome on the battlefields of the galaxy. The very notion that 40k had wormed its way into _RWBY_ seemed downright fanciful; If there was truly an Imperial presence on Remnant, he would have known about it when he would have no doubt spotted a flag with the Imperial Aquila flying overhead, or a cult or something, anything really. But thus far it had been only a few individuals with names and appearances akin to The Emperor's Angels of Death and one secret faction that thus far had yet to act nearly as brutal as their contemporary in the Imperium.

It was unlikely that 40k had truly bled into the world of Remnant... but he couldn't take a chance on being wrong. He would need to start allocating some time to researching these individuals... on top of training for the Battle of Beacon.

Speaking of which, after the events of that evening, Jacob had also begun thinking about his situation in Remnant. There was no doubt about it, by now he had at least changed some bits of Remnant in comparison to canonical events, and without doubt things would continue to change with his involvement. Hopefully the divergences would be miniscule at the most, but regardless of that he had still changed things up... mainly with the killing of that boy.

With Team RWBY and JNPR to offer him support he had made alarmingly quick work of compartmentalizing the fact that he had committed manslaughter—in what would no doubt have been seen as a racially-charged attack if people back home got their spin on the situation—But even then every so often that moment would come screaming back to him in a panicky flurry of fear and remorse that would send him into the maws of a panic attack.

He had thought that his classes in school had taught him how to control panic attacks. But he doubted that they could ever train him for attacks of this manner. Rather than seek out further help from outside forces, he instead opted to do as he always did and soldier on with what help he did get from RWBY and JNPR. Ever since that night and the subsequent morning their bond had been fortifying at a rate that would make Rogal Dorn show emotion, mainly surprise. They waited up for him if he had to talk with a professor, unless he told them he would be along shortly such as that morning before Initiation...

That morning when he kissed Yang.

His face lit up with a calm smile. Yang had been coy with him for the past few days ever since, though she did not act the least bit embarrassed, even after word reached the others' ears of what had transpired. Admittedly, Jacob did enjoy Yang's fire and tenacity, but the two of them together were a dangerous combination in this state. Yang was quick to anger and pushing her buttons tended to lead to a concussion or worse; Jacob was well aware that his sneaky combat style and indirect means of fighting was one such thing to push those buttons to their limit.

And then of course there was her father and sister to consider—

"AAGH, JESUS!"

Without warning, his whole world became nothing but pain.

Jacob felt himself double over as the back of his skull screamed in agony. Then his eyes followed suit, forcing him to close them so hard that he was seeing stars. It was like a red-hot poker had skewered the back of his skull and started scrambling about in his... _what was is again?_ His mind couldn't even conjure up the right name for that part of the brain he was in so much agony. Jacob couldn't even scream his mind was so focused on the pain. He fell to his knees as the pain continued.

 _Make it stop, make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!_

He rolled onto his side as he clutched his head and strangled out a groan of pain. "Help," was all he could muster, but it was so quiet that there was no way it could have reached into the hallway.

This was no caffeine migraine like he had ever been privy to. This was as if his brain were rebelling; Some fearful hypochondriacal part of his mind screamed that he was in the midst of an aneurysm, how else would his head be in such searing pain?

Part of his mind that was still fully working feared that this was his end. He would die in his dorm room alone and unable to divulge any truths. That here, not by blade or bullet or tooth and claw, but by his own body failing, he would pass. He wouldn't get to save Pyrrha, or Penny, or Yang or anyone else who would die.

This was it. The buck stopped here.

He continued to writhe in pain for what felt like eternity, his eyes screaming in pain as if white-hot daggers had skewered them like a macabre shish-kebab.

It just kept going... and going... and going...

 _JESUS CHRIST, WHEN WILL THIS END!?_

His answer came immediately after his thought was done; where once agonizing pain had been there was now nothing. No pain, no agony, nothing but the rush of adrenaline pounding out a tempo in his veins.

He remained on the ground, curled up in phantom agony in anticipation that it would start up again. To his ears the tick of the clock suddenly sounded a lot louder in the overwhelming silence of the room.

 _I... I think it's over._

Jacob slowly opened his eyes... and immediately noticed something.

The light in the room... it had... _changed._

Previously, the room had lit up in unison, no shadows really to be spotted during any time of the day, as if the world had been rendered in the engine of Volume 1 at least to his point of view. Now however he noticed light variations, textures that he only now was realizing how much he missed being able to see certain textures rather than just feel them, and honest to God shadows that seemed natural, rather than the ones that seemed pre-rendered like that night at the docks.

It was as if his vision had gone from Volume 1 animation to Volume 2.

He stood up, shaking like a leaf as the fear of the pain returning continued, but he couldn't help but look around in awe. It was as if his eyes had been upgraded by some divine force.

He wobbled over to the bathroom and immediately noticed his movement in the mirror: Unlike previously, where it had appeared as if his movements were a weightless marionette like almost all of the non-combat animation in Volume 1, now his movements look much more like they felt, as though there was weight to it. Granted, not as much as real life of course, but a noticeable improvement. He arched his eyebrows and took note that the visuals of his face looked far more emotive than before; Again, not to a truly realistic degree, but now at least his emotes were easier to read than before.

"What the hell... my vision changed?"

Suddenly the positioning of the pain made sense, as it had been in the back of his skull and in his eyes; The pain had come from his occipital lobe and his eyes somehow... readjusting themselves.

"Please tell me this isn't gonna happen with each Volume," he asked nobody in particular before splashing his face with cold water.

Jacob walked back into the main room and sat himself down on the edge of the bed, holding his head as he processed what had just happened. He glanced upwards to the clock over his desk.

11:25.

Had he been out in raw pain for nearly 20 minutes?

"Lunch isn't for another 30 minutes, I think I'll just... stay here and read," he decided hesitantly before picking up and continuing onwards through _The Traitor's Hand_.

 _"This is ridiculous, I told myself firmly. I was an Imperial commissar, not a frightened juvie. I tied my sash tightly, placed my cap squarely on my head and tried not to feel quite so relieved when I'd buckled my weapon belt around my waist..."_

* * *

Half an hour later, Jacob had managed to pull himself away from his book and was currently waiting along the outside of the cafeteria, looking in from just outside of of RWBY and JNPR's line of sight but at just the right angle to be able to see in. Ruby had not yet arrived with the binder she "borrowed" from Weiss' supplies, meaning that The Food Fight had yet to begin.

Of all the things Jacob had been looking forward to, watching The Food Fight was high on the priorities suffice it to say; it was a moment of brevity in the tumultuous storm of events swirling around the school before the real shitfest could begin.

Over the last two weeks the two teams had mostly spent time relaxing and training, with studying staying far out of their minds. But oddly enough considering the time of year that they were in, they spent a good amount of time outside in their outfits that were far from designed for summer comfort. Then again, it didn't seem to matter as much; Whereas back on Earth the temperature was no doubt beginning to drop, here in Remnant—Vale to be precise—the average temperature was only barely rising over 80 degrees on a hot day. To Jacob this didn't even begin to make sense seeing as Vale was around the same position on the map in latitude as, say, St. Thomas or St. Martin in the Caribbean. When he was really thinking about it, the climate of Remnant made as much sense as American politics on a good day.

He continued to watch them from his leaning perch against a window frame, watching from just out of their field of vision but still able to watch them directly. It felt strange to look in as if he were spying on them, but he would rather not get dragged into the middle of The Food Fight. Jacob had snuck inside in secret and had grabbed a cold-cut sandwich, a bag of chips and a red apple to satisfy his hunger while he waited for RWBY and JNPR to start their good-natured battle. 10 minutes afterwards and he had already finished the chips and a half of the sandwich—a delightfully-tasty roast beef and swiss that satisfied his rioting belly and drew his mind away from his earlier occipital episode—and was now tossing his apple up and down as he watched them chat nonchalantly. As he stood there watching, his eyes traced a line to Yang, currently playing with her food as Nora catapulted pieces of food her direction, only for her to grab them.

Jacob's face lit up with a smile as his mind wandered back to that kiss again... how electric it was and how much it had set his system on metaphorical fire. Maybe it was because of it being his first time, but he had never imagined a kiss to feel like that; sure he'd read similar reactions in cheesy romance novels and fanfictions, but the scary part was that they were suddenly sounding very truthful; Part of him wanted to feel that again, like a druggy-to-be after his first fix of heroin. But then again he doubted that Yang would honestly go for a guy as generally tame as he was. She had always seemed to be the type for the night life at a club whereas he was more about staying up late to paint or draw or catch up on an online raid in a game. But he couldn't pretend like living it up a little didn't metaphorically tickle his fancy a bit.

He shuffled his feet under him as he decided to look down at his phone and pull up his music. At about that point a thought ran through his head.

 _Don't I still have all my movies on here?_

Sure enough, after some digging he found his movie roster. He was never without a few movies on hand, though at last count his library had around 30 or so thanks to a microSD card he'd gotten as a gift on his 20th birthday. _The Lord of the Rings_ Trilogy and _The Hobbit_ as well, the _Jurassic Park_ quadrilogy, all of the _Star Wars_ movies—That thought made him wish he had been given the chance to catch _The Last Jedi_ before he left— _Good Morning Vietnam_ , _Kingsman,_ the first _Avengers_ film, the _Back to the Future_ trilogy, and a ton of other movies just to name some of the non-Disney stuff in his library which in-turn took up somewhere around another 10 names. Of course he had still hung on to the videos from his trips to Disneyland and Disney World, Seattle and D.C. and even a few he had taken when he had traveled to the Caribbean for his high school graduation. With all of that on his phone's additional SD card, he had come to realize quickly after the night at the docks he could only sparingly do his nightly journal entries; the space problem was quickly solved with a general glance-over of all of his recordings and purging the generally unnecessary ones. Alongside that he had discovered the means of recording on his Scroll as well, and for the most part he had begun using the Scroll for those recordings.

But just as he was about to turn on _Jurassic World_ to watch the big battle between Rexy, Blue and the Indominus Rex, he glanced back at RWBY and JNPR, only to see Ruby herself walk by with Weiss' binder, the words, "Best Day Ever Activities!" scrawled across the front with a marker in big red letters.

"Hey Jacob," she began, "what are you doing out here?"

"Oh, Ruby! I uh, I was getting fresh air," he half-lied, "I caught a wicked headache earlier and I thought some fresh air would help put me back in a good mood."

"Oh, don't be silly," she said with a laugh, "being with good friends is cure enough for something like that!"

"It's really... _not,_ " he replied.

"Oh, come on," she said as she reached out a hand and grabbed the collar of his jacket, "You're gonna like what I planned!" And with that she began to drag him into the building by said collar though she only managed to make it a foot away before Jacob's 155 pounds of diminishing fat and growing muscle stopped her momentum.

With a sigh he followed along behind her, knowing full well he was now about to be plunged headlong into the Food Fight. _Not according to plan,_ he thought to himself, _but at least I'll have a little fun_ _today_. At that thought he couldn't help but chuckle as Ruby pulled him along like a puppy dog pulling its master on a walk.

Within less than a minute they had arrived at the table, Ruby slamming the binder down onto the table with a massive _SLAM._ Jacob's eye turned to a familiar metal chair sitting off to the side of the table and he was immediately seated astride Ruby. As he sat down, he spotted Yang looking aside at him, wearing a kind and yet wry smile. She flashed him a wink, and he felt a heat under his collar as he returned the smile.

"Hey handsome," she said jokingly.

"Hey yourself hot stuff," he replied. From the edge of his range of hearing he heard several giggles and chuckles escape the throats of the rest of the student body.

It turned out that out word of his kiss with Yang didn't stay a secret for long and some were betting on whether they would become a thing. Fortunately CFVY had been helping to dispel the rumors, though like a weed rumors would always exist and keep cropping up in the least convenient places.

Ruby cleared her throat. "Sisters... friends... Weiss."

"Hey!"

"Four score and seven minutes ago, I had a dream..."

Jacob rolled his eyes in bemusement. _The Founding Fathers are spinning in their graves at the moment._

"...a dream that one day, the nine of us will come together, as _teams_ , and have the most fun anyone has ever had... ever!"

Jacob found himself double-taking _. Wait, did she say the **nine**_ _of us?_ He distinctly remembered she originally had only been talking about RWBY and RWBY only.

Out of the corner of his vision he saw Weiss arch an eyebrow. "Did you steal my binder?"

"I am not a crook," Ruby replied in a whisper as she channeled Richard Nixon and flashed a pair of peace signs. Somewhere in the back of Jacob's mind the obligatory cry of "Arooo" sounded off, forcing him into a smile.

"What are you talking about?" Blake asked as she shut her notebook, containing notes and sketches from her time in the Fang if Jacob remembered correctly.

"I'm talking about kicking off the semester with a bang!"

Jacob felt a cold chill go racing down his spine. _Wait for it..._

"I always kick my semesters off with a Yang!"

The sound of Jacob's palm meeting his face could have woken the dead. The pain of both the pun and the facepalm incited a low and long groan from him.

"Eh? Guys? Am I right?" Before anyone could reply, Nora picked an apple off of Ren's plate and bopped Yang square in the nose with it with a resounding "Boooo!" backing it up.

Ruby continued undaunted. "Look guys, it's been a good two weeks and between more exchange students arriving and the tournament at the end of the year, our second semester is going to be great! But, classes start back up tomorrow! Which is why I've taken the time to schedule a series of wonderful events for us today."

"I don't know whether to be proud or scared of what you have in store," Weiss countered in surprise. Astride her Yang glared at Nora and lobbed another apple across the way, only for Nora to duck down and the apple to smack Cardin in the back of the head with an audible cry of indignation leaving him.

"I don't know," Blake began, "I think I might sit this one out."

"Sit out or not," Weiss replied, "I think that however we spend this last day, we should do it as a team!"

Across the way, Jacob heard Nora say, "I got it!" She rose from the table, having mysteriously manifested a banana cream pie out of thin air; they didn't even have those in the cafeteria line today.

 _Here we go..._

Yang began frantically waving for Nora to stop, but judging by the mischievous grin Nora was wearing, "no" was not an option.

Weiss stood up. "I for one think that—"

 ** _SPLAT!_**

Weiss' face was suddenly coated in a banana cream pie, the whole table shocked into silence.

Turning his gaze to JNPR, the look of shock on Nora said that her aim was off on accident. She plopped back down into her seat beside Ren, the other three members unconsciously replicating the Three Monkeys; Ren as See with his head down in his hand, Pyrrha as Speak as she covered her mouth in shock, and Jaune as Hear... because the punchline would have been incomplete.

"And the food has flown," Jacob muttered under his breath.

Wordlessly, Weiss grabbed a salad off her plate and flung it as hard as she could. The salad caught Ren full in the face just as he looked up, sending him to the floor in a flurry of lettuce, tomatoes and Huntsman.

Jacob knew he did not want to be caught in the middle of this, or things could get out of hand really quickly. "If you'll excuse me Ruby," he began as he tried to escape to the main entrance, "I'm gonna step outside real quick—AACK!"

The strangling sound came from the sudden force of Yang yanking him down beside her as she took cover beneath the tables. "Oh no you don't," she said, "you're staying here with us!"

By now the food was flying profusely as fruit and meat and vegetables rocketed through the air like an edible hailstorm in extreme winds. Without noticing, Nora grabbed Jaune's arm and threw him like a ragdoll, sending him tumbling over them and into the window like a cartoon character.

Jacob couldn't help but think of how weird it still was to see a scene from a show at another angle like this.

Just then, he spotted Sun walking by with one of his teammates; Maroon jacket, dark-blue jeans, long gloves with a metric ton of straps on them, a rifle slung on his back, and most telling of all being the bright blue hair that could have only been spawned through hair dye, it had to be Neptune Vasilias.

A punch in his shoulder brought him back to the situation at hand. "Hey," Yang said as she shoved an apple into Jacob's hand, "start tossing!"

He looked at the apple and back at JNPR. Part of him really wanted to avoid getting involved in the food fight, mainly since he knew Glynda and Ozpin would be along soon and put a stop to it; It wouldn't exactly speak highly of him that he partook in a food fight at age 20 not even a week after joining _t_ _he damned Remnant version of the Inquisition._

But he would play along for the moment.

"I'll circle 'round from the side so I can get a better shot," he said to Yang, " keep them focused on you guys." She nodded and smiled in reply and began to toss more and more food at JNPR. By now most of the student body was on the retreat or trying to take cover as dishes were sent screaming through the air. Jacob made his way down the hall as JNPR began to build up the massive pile of tables on the wall of the main entrance, almost blocking him but for a small opening amongst the tables. RWBY was too busy pushing the attack to notice him slinking away.

Just as he arrived to the entrance, Neptune and Sun walked in, Sun wearing a big and dopey smile while Neptune wore a face of shock and awe.

"Yo Wukong, might want to clear the AO," Jacob began as he shifted from crouching back to standing once he was clear of the tables.

"Oh, hey man," Sun replied nonchalantly as food continued to fly behind and beside them, "We were just dropping by to see the guys. I'd like you to meet one of my teammates; Neptune, this is Jacob, the guy I—"

Jacob put up a hand as he interrupted the monkey Faunus. "Sun, we can deal with formal introductions later, right now if we really want to watch without getting caught in the crossfire, let's find a corner to hide in."

At that instant he heard the distinctive singsong cries of, "I'm Queen of the castle, I'm Queen of the castle!"

Jacob turned around and sure enough JNPR had managed to make a makeshift mountain out of stacked tables, piled high atop one another with absolute abandon.

Across the hall, RWBY had taken up positions along the isles, Ruby slamming her foot down atop a table with enough force to send what plates remained up a foot or two before clattering to the ground or back onto the table. "Justice will be swift," she began, crushing her milk box in her hand, "Justice will be painful! it will be _DELICIOUS!_ " The rest of RWBY cried out as well, signalling the Food Fight to begin.

He turned back to Sun and Neptune with a single order: "Find cover, it just got hot!"

The trio quickly overturned a table and took cover behind it, peaking out their heads just as JNPR began their watermelon bombardment that would make a mortar tank blush in envy. Across the way, Yang took up the metaphorical spearpoint, brandishing a pair of stuffed turkeys on her fists in the absence of Ember Celica. One by one she managed to smash her way through the bombardment, the turkeys holding against the green bombardment they were taking. Left uppercut, spin into a right punch, then a left, one by one Yang moved forwards, spattering watermelons against her fists, only for Blake to platform off of her with a pair of baguettes in hand in the absence of Gambol Shroud. She landed with a roll before cutting upwards and catching two more watermelons before Yang in turn hopped over her and caught the final one with a flying kick. With the force of a RPG, Yang sent both turkeys screaming—literally screaming with an audible whistle—at Pyrrha, who managed to roll out of the way only for Jaune to catch one of the baked poultry square in the jaw. Jaune toppled to the ground as the second one caught him in the stomach and sent him flying.

Sun, Jacob and Neptune, seated in that exact order, all cringed as the second turkey made impact. "At least it didn't land any farther south," Jacob said through his teeth, only for the two Mistrali Huntsmen beside him to cringe even harder at the notion.

Pyrrha scooped up a baguette of her own and quickly engaged Blake in a swordlock, the three loafs audibly crackling as the two tried to overpower one another; Jacob was more focused on the fact that those loaves must have been stale as hell to be that hard. Pyrrha broke the lock with a twirling slash that Blake quickly somersaulted over, the two beginning a dance of play-fighting that would have in truth belonged more in a ballet with how many pirouettes they were pulling off. Blake jumped high overhead and launched a baguette at Pyrrha, who backflipped away before launching herself forward to catch Blake in the chest with her own baguette. The Faunus girl was sent flying backwards, Pyrrha swapping to her skills with a javelin and lobbing one of the baguettes nearby like a Predator missile.

"Whoo, you go girl," Jacob called out from behind the table as he flung a fist high. Sun flashed him a raised eyebrow.

Meanwhile, one of the baguettes had caught Yang square in the chest and sent her flying, only for Ruby to appear out from behind her surfing on a tray, batting a baguette back at Pyrrha. With a flying leap Ruby flung herself tray-first at Pyrrha, who was only able to raise up her arms to block the blow but was still sent flying backwards.

Jacob, Neptune and Sun ducked back down and turned around for a second. "Geez," Neptune said in awe, "is this normal here?"

"Hardly," Jacob replied, "But it was feeling like one of those days where anything can and will happen." He extended a hand to Neptune for a handshake. "By the way, I'm Jacob. Jacob Muller."

"Neptune Vasilias," he replied as he answered the handshake. "Odd name," he noted, "no offense though."

"None taken, I get that alot. Care for an apple?"

At just that moment there was the sudden sound of bowling pins being struck, and all around them tables, benches, plates and food were thrown to the wall and high into the air, crashing down around them with a noise like a hurricane.

"No thanks," Neptune said, "I think my appetite's a bit ruined at the moment."

"Fair enough," Jacob replied before he took a bite of the apple.

They peaked their heads back over the table to the sight of Weiss dueling Nora in a battle of watermelon-hammer and swordfish of all things.

"Wait a minute," Jacob cried as he watched the fight, "where the flying hell did she get a swordfish!?"

His question went unanswered as fish and melon spun about in a flurry of swings, only for Nora to wind up and catch Weiss in the stomach. The heiress was sent flying and slammed back-first into a support column with enough force to actually compromise it, a massive wedge falling out from the body before the whole thing buckled and bent. Weiss would have been crushed by the upper half of the pillar had Ruby not been there to dive in and catch her.

"Weiss, Weiss! Don't leave me," Ruby cried out as she landed on her knee before letting out a dramatic and sappy "Nooo!"

 _White Rose much?_ Jacob thought to himself as he watched and nearly laughed at the display. Behind the two the pillar slammed into the ground with the force of a rocket exploding, the tremors feeling like the start of an earthquake. Beside him, Sun jumped up and cheered as the fight continued onwards.

"Dude, that was awesome!"

"Sun," Jacob hissed, "get down before something takes your head off!"

Just then Yang came thundering down the center lane, once again sporting a pair of turkeys on her fists. Ren moved to intercept, a pair of leeks in hand. The two met in the center of the hall, Yang swapping from a punching pose into a MMA kick that Ren managed to block with the leek.

Jacob looked away out of fear of catching an eyeful that Yang would kill him over.

"Huh, I _thought_ she was the type for the bikini style," Sun commented.

Jacob felt a heat rise to his face. He dared to steal the tiniest glance.

Turns out, the world of Remnant didn't actually have Monty's Anti-Upskirt Technology.

For a brief second, he saw a flash of yellow beneath the white ruffles as she kicked off with her other foot and returned to a punching pose.

Jacob's head almost ran off with that image of Yang in only her underwear before he mentally conjured the image of Taiyang threatening him with a shotgun. _Now I **know** Barbara's gonna figure out how to reach through the etherium and kill me, if Monty doesn't come back from the dead and kill me first._

"Dude don't be a creeper," Neptune commented to Sun.

"I meant it in the nicest way possible."

"Yeah, but don't let her know you saw," Jacob said through a huff, "or you'll become the first person on Remnant to leave orbit."

Their attention was stolen back by the fight as the massive sound of Huntsman meeting concrete rang out; Yang had just slammed Ren into the ground with force nearly on par with the pillar falling.

"Or she'll leave you in a you-shaped crater," Neptune wryly stated.

"That too," Jacob affirmed as he pointed aside at Neptune, his eyes still glued to the fight; Really this was a Huntsman fight taking itself to the absolute most extreme he had yet seen.

Nora engaged Yang with her melon-hammer, the two trading massive blows before Nora clued in and sent Yang tumbling through the roof with a massive uppercut.

"That melon should have gone _das splat_ by now," Jacob said matter-of-factly.

"Their Aura is getting channeled into the weapon," Neptune said as if it were common knowledge, "gives it additional durability. I thought you training to be a Huntsman too, how do you not know that?"

"Let's just say I'm actually fairly new to this; Ironically, I'm probably the oldest person in this room," Jacob replied as Blake lashed out at Nora with a chain of sausage links, sending the pint-sized bruiser into one of the soda machines at the base of the amassed mountain of tables. Tons of sodas spilled out, and in no time at all Nora had begun picking them up and tossing them like grenade-spam in an first-person shooter. Blake managed to deflect most of them, until one soda-grenade struck in a lucky place and sent a pair of links flying at the observing party. Jacob caught them with a laugh as he held them up in a mini-victory.

"Anyone up for bratwurst sandwiches?" he asked, holding up a pair of hot dog buns that had been spared meeting the ground.

Sun quickly swiped up one and began chowing down as he watched. "Cool," he said through a bite of sausage, "lunch and a show!" As soon as he said that, a rogue soda came flying by that had been batted away by the last sausage link Blake had.

Jacob caught it as well and laughed triumphantly as he held it up. "Oh baby, root beer! I'm in heaven!" He cracked it open and let the fizz roar itself out before taking a big long swing.

Just then, Pyrrha decided to put her Semblance to use, conjuring up a wave of sodas to toss at RWBY. It was like a pair of surging tentacles made of metal and soda were attacking without relent, Blake being thrown back as the sodas pelted her like hail.

"Oh come on Pyrrha," Jacob cried out as he finished another drink, "that's not fair!"

She only muttered a weak "Sorry" as the assault continued.

Blake collided with the back wall. Ruby stood up, a determined look in her eyes.

"Oh shit," Jacob muttered as he realized what was next, "Pyrrha, look out!"

Ruby took a runner's stance, and with seconds had bolted forwards with her own Semblance catapulting her. The vortex of wind she left behind her countered Pyrrha's Magnetism, the hurricane winds sweeping up anything and everything smaller than the tables themselves in a wind tunnel missile launcher.

Jacob heard himself roar, "EVERYONE HIT THE DECK," with the force of a drill sergeant.

He and the two members of SSSN dove back behind the overturned table that they had claimed as their sanctuary as Ruby let out her little war cry and morphed into a corkscrew of red and fabric, zooming by Jaune and Ren and sweeping them up in the gale-force winds. She careened through the tables and sent them flying everywhere, the winds catching Pyrrha and Nora as well just as Ruby skidded to a halt right before she could hit the wall. A massive impact crater randomly formed in the wall before the members of JNPR even collided with it, looking as if a Graug from _Shadow of Mordor_ had just decided to punch the wall.

The wall of debris smacked them all with the force of a typhoon, pelting them with food, plates, trays, cans and spilled soda. By the time it was over, the various drinks had coated them all so much that from a face-first viewpoint Jacob couldn't have seen who was who. They all toppled to the floor like ragdolls.

"I love these guys," Sun sighed.

Jacob looked over to Neptune, who had on this go around avoided getting coated with grape soda. Instead of looking irked afterwards like he did canonically instead he was looking a bit bewildered and had begun applauding the spectacle. "Whoo, what a show!"

The groan from JNPR brought Jacob's attention back to them. He ran over to Pyrrha and Jaune first, both laying right next to one another.

Their hands had been nestled in one another's.

Jacob suppressed the urge to chuckle. "Hey, you guys okay?"

Jaune groaned. "I think I'm gonna lay off soda for a few days," he said. Out of the corner of Jacob's vision he saw a faint blush tinging Pyrrha's face as her hand rested in Jaune's.

"Here, let me help you up," Jacob said as he took Jaune's other hand and hauled him back up on his feet. As soon as he was on his feet, Jaune turned to Pyrrha and offered her his hand. She took it with a schoolgirl blush and a meek, "Thank you."

A slamming door announced the presence of Glynda Goodwitch, who stormed into the room with an audible growl. With a twirl of her whipping crop, her Semblance came into play, the various upturned tables, benches, vending machines and other paraphernalia levitating off the ground as if possessed by some demon. Quickly and with inhuman organization the tables realigned themselves and reformed the rows they had originally been. The collapsed pillar also returned to its original state, the cracks in the structure seemingly resealing as the pillar assumed its load-bearing position. All but the hole in the ceiling where Yang had been sent flying and the one overturned table Jacob, Sun and Neptune had used remained, though Jacob was quick to correct that error as he shoved it back onto its legs and back into position.

"Children please," Glynda said sternly as she pushed her glasses back up onto the bridge of her nose, "Do not _play_ with your food."

Silence held for all of 2 seconds before Nora let out a loud and unladylike belch mere seconds before Yang returned to earth through another hole in the roof. Everyone, even Sun and Neptune broke out into laughter after that, sans Glynda of course.

About that time Ozpin came through the doors as well, calmly and slowly walking up to Glynda and placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "Let it go," he said to Goodwitch, her gaze looking back at him the second his hand met her shoulder.

Glynda sighed heavily. "They're supposed to be the defenders of the world," she sighed as a heaviness overtook her body language; Now as Jacob watched her from beside the table he had hunkered behind, he couldn't help but notice she looked practically exhausted.

"And they will be," Ozpin replied. "But right now they're still children. So why not let them play the part?" He lowered his hand and sighed as well. "After all, it isn't a role they'll have forever."

Jacob felt his own mood start retreating southwards as well. The flashes of Volume 3 and 4 in his mind made that statement seem more than a little profound if not prememitionary all things considering. He looked over at the amassed group.

Yang and Ruby were all smiles and hugs at the moment, unaware of the cruel future fate had originally in store for them. Blake was all smiles as well, and so was Weiss.

And JNPR was whole and happy, everyone smiling and laughing. Pyrrha's laughter was loud and sweet, surprisingly complementing Jaune's chuckles. Nora and Ren were sitting next to one another as they joined in on the laughter.

Considering what was to happen, that image alone burned into Jacob's mind and thrashed the images of Volume 3 and 4 about like a T. rex with a lawyer. His own face lit up with a smile, and for the briefest second, he felt a tear roll down his left cheek.

"Hey, there's the traitor!" Yang yelled playfully as she pointed at him.

"Neutrality is betrayal, get him!" Nora cried out.

Suddenly they were all on him, Yang, Ruby and Nora tackling him to the ground as he let out an audible oof of surprise. "Careful with the old man," he laughed as they yelled playfully with joking cries of "death to the traitors". The rest watched on from the side as the four of them rolled on the floor and laughed about. Off to the side still standing near the doors, Neptune and Sun were watching with their own big smiles on their faces.

And out of the corner of his eye, He spotted Glynda and Ozpin watching as well, the faintest echo of a smile on their faces too.

For the first time since he had come to Remnant, the Battle of Beacon felt well and truly far away.

He looked down at Ruby, who was now hugging his chest tightly just before Yang joined in as well. He returned the hug in earnest, the tight-knit group hug feeling to Jacob like all of his troubles were for the moment melting into the abyss.

 _I'm probably jinxing it, but to hell with it,_ he thought to himself. _This really is the best day ever._

And he wouldn't have had it any other way.

* * *

 _Tapdancing fuck, with how this day is going I could go for a run to an ice cream store right about now._

He looked down at the charts and tallies marking where his peons had been in regards to the city and the hauls they had made off with.

"Okay, so what are we looking at here: Industrial District, 55% scoured, 60.3 tons amassed. Not bad at all, might look into adding a few more groups over that way... Commercial District, 75% scoured, 14.7 tons amassed. Not bad, but I was expecting a bit more. Wharf District, 95% scoured, 0.5 tons? Jeez, you figure there'd be more Dust to swipe near the fucking docks than just _that_."

Roman Torchwick looked up from his planning table to observe his goons and... associates in the White Fang buzzing about like a hive of bees. The last few days had been a major boon for him, the majority of Dust shops in town having surrendered over 35% of the city's supplies; the entire warehouse they had established as their F.O.B. was now filled with shipping crates filled to the brim with Dust. Metrics aside, the entire operation had been abuzz with a ferocity he hadn't exactly been anticipating, though now as he thought about it more it certainly wasn't coming from _his_ cronies.

He glanced over at a pair of White Fang foot-soldiers, grim-faced quite literally thanks to their masks and also metaphorically as not one in the whole building had even cracked a smile in the last few days. They practically oozed edgy-emo-anger, their single-minded efficiency certainly getting the job done wherever they went...

The only problem was that it was starting to get on Roman's nerves.

Sadly Neo was preoccupied at the moment in the Industrial District, giving Junior the shakedown on information out and about the city. If there was one thing that girl could do even better than massage his back like an angel, it was make a man sing like a canary.

Torchwick glanced back at the map of Vale, no long lying stretched out over a table like a battle map in a general's quarters, now instead it had been hastily hammered into the side of a shipping crate overlooking a fold-up table he was using as his desk. Every region had been mapped out, the major districts now for the most part in his control despite police activity skyrocketing with the Vytal Festival on the way.

As of the moment, Roman Torchwick was the de facto kingpin of Vale, and not even the Council or the Huntsmen could really even _try_ to stop that.

A pair of footfalls reached from the periphery of his ears. He turned and was met by a pair of kids walking up to him. The easier to spot was the guy, about 5'10" if Roman had to take a wild-ass guess, silver hair spiked up and unkempt in the front and slicked back from the crown back like most edgelord teens in this day and age. The kid was sporting a two-tone half-zip jacket and black jeans, with black boots; From the outside he seemed to be a pretty normal kid—well, as normal as his company tended to be—though Roman was not a fool when he caught the slightest whisper of servos and gears moving with each of his footfalls.

The boy's compatriot was also rather striking. She was a dark-skinned girl, probably no older than 19 or 18 and just as cocky if that walk of hers said anything about her personality. Her hair was a mint-green straight-bang cut across the face and then ended with cheek-length bangs encircling the rest of her head.

"Oh, look! She sent the kids again!" He approached the two and embraced them in a mocking side-by-side hug. "This is turning out just like the divorce..."

That elicited a shudder from the girl— _Emerald, that's what her name was_ —as she pulled away from him. "Spare us the thought of you procreating."

 _Kids these days,_ Roman mentally sighed as he rolled his eyes and walked away with what he needed; without Emerald's knowing he had rummaged through her back pocket and had come across the feeling of a scrap of paper in his hands.

"That was a joke," he replied sarcastically, "And _this_... just might tell me where you two have been all day."

Emerald quickly started groping at her back pockets in confusion. "What!?"

"I'm a professional, sweetheart," Roman replied, "Pay attention, maybe you'll learn something." He looked down at the scrap of paper; it was an address.

And address he was going to deal with tomorrow.

"Why do you have this address?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Emerald snidely replied.

"Yeah, I would. Now where have you been all day?"

"Cleaning up your problems," the boy— _Mercury, that's what Cinder said his name was, but who really cares_ —said to him. "One of them, at least."

Roman felt his blood pressure begin to climb. "I had that under control," he said through gritted teeth.

"Two packed bags and a ticket out of Vale said otherwise," replied the boy.

"Listen, you little punk," Roman began, pointing Melodic Cudgel's barrel at him, "If it were up to me, then I would take you and your little street rat friend here and—"

"Do what, Roman?"

Roman's head snapped upwards. Without even a sound to announce her presence even considering those insane glass pumps, the sultry form of Cinder Fall had appeared on the lift platform overlooking the three of them.

Roman felt a knot twist up in his stomach. Suddenly, he wasn't top dog in the room. "I'd, uh... not kill them?"

He noticed out of the periphery of his vision that Emerald's whole body language had taken a sudden turn for the chipper. "Cinder!"

Cinder ignored her and began to advance on Roman once the lift reached the ground. "I thought I made it clear that you would eliminate the would-be runaway."

"I was going to—" Roman began.

"He was going to escape to Vacuo! Mercury and I decided to take it upon ourselves to kill the rat," replied Emerald.

"I think he was some sort of cat, actually," said Mercury.

"What? Like a puma?"

"Yeah, there ya go." Now those two were _really_ starting to get on his nerves.

"Quiet," Cinder said sternly, as if she were a mother scolding two misbehaving children. "Did I not specifically instruct you two to keep your hands clean while in Vale?"

The two brats began to look guilty. For the first time in a while, Roman felt a bit in the mood to be mocking as he began snickering at the two's misfortune.

"I just thought—"

"Don't _think_ ," Cinder said with a commanding edge, " _O_ _bey_."

Emerald's gaze met the floor in shame. "Yes ma'am," she said dejectedly. "It won't happen again."

Suddenly, Cinder wheeled on him, glaring daggers at Roman. He let out a weak chuckle. "And you: Why wasn't this job done _sooner_?"

Roman felt a twinge of outrage.

"Uh.. Eh...?" He gestured with his cane to a Bullhead unloading Dust.

"Eh..?" His other arm pointed to a stack of recently-stolen Dust that had yet to be loaded in the shipping crates.

Finally, he raised both arms, trying to point out the obvious Dust crates standing behind him, with him practically screaming, "EHHHHH! Sorry if I've been busy stealing every speck of Dust in the Kingdom!"

"You're an inspiration to every punk with a gun and a ski mask," said the punk, Emerald laughing at the retort.

"Look around, kid. I've got this town running scared! Police camping out at every corner, Dust prices through the roof, and we're sitting pretty on an old warehouse with more Dust crystals, vials, and rounds than we know what to do with!"

 **"That shall be of little concern here soon,"** boomed a new voice, sporting a noticeable reverb. It was loud enough that even the White Fang goons stopped in their tracks upon the voice ringing out.

Thunderous footfalls rang out overhead from the catwalk. Like an Ursa walking on the roof, it was so loud that each step almost felt as if it were drawn out for drama.

The form of a man appeared overhead, though his face looked to be hidden behind some kind of helmet, the visor forming a menacing-looking T. atop the helmet where a quadruplet of horns, all four curving in towards the vertical median of the helmet, giving him the silhouette of a demon. Even from down where he was, Roman could tell the man was easily pushing the upper end of 6' tall.

The lack of a lift didn't stop the man; on the contrary, he seemed to decide to vault over the railings with an audible .

He hit the ground in a superhero landing right out of a Valewood movie. More importantly, he made landfall with enough force that Roman felt it in his feet from 20 feet away.

And suddenly it seemed like Cinder was the least-threatening person in the room.

 **"Considering what I see here,"** the behemoth boomed again, his voice calm and smooth as jazz but authoritative and hiding an edge of menace, **"Your bounty is well earned, Roman Torchwick. There is enough Dust here to suit Ms. Fall's needs, and even then some."** He walked up the group, Emerald and Mercury shrinking back at his mere presence.

Roman however would not budge to some giant brute.

The man stopped about 5 feet out, and Roman became quite aware of some other details. The man was built like a tank, with huge shoulders and massive forearms clad in steel vambraces. His chest was clad in steel armor painted blood red with white edges, almost like a medieval knight but more insidious. A black and tattered cape flew behind him, giving him an even more ominous silhouette than before. He sported pauldrons as wide as a car's wheel, his left one sporting the Eightfold Path's symbol and his right sporting what looked to be his insignia:

A black shape of a horned monster's head, maw wide and bearing a great deal of teeth behind a white outline of a book, black lines simulating letters on the pages. Behind the book, the peaks of a yellow flame rose up from behind the book.

Roman had heard of some of the members of the Eightfold Path, but this guy was new to him.

"Speaking of which," Roman addressed as he piggybacked off of the brute's comment, "if you guys wouldn't mind filling me in on your grand master plan, it might actually make my next string of robberies go a little _smoother_!"

Cinder approached him with a sultry walk; No Neo at the moment to stop Cinder now. "Oh, Roman. Have a little faith." Her smooth hands caressed his cheek. "You'll know what you need when you need to know it."

 _Damn it all,_ he thought to himself for a second, _she really know how to make a guy want to get in her pants._ Heshook his head and grunted as he snapped out of his lusty trance.

"Besides," Cinder continued, "we're done with Dust."

That caught Roman's attention. "O-okay, then what now?"

The giant moved to answer, taking off his helmet. The first feature Roman noticed was the massive scar that ran from his left temple to his nostril, the subsequent left eye white and probably unable to see anything now. The face beneath the helmet turned out to be of a man in his early 40s by any and all indications, his head bald as a baby's and a he sported no facial hair either. His chin was chiseled and his features were well-sculpted: wide and short nose, strong cheekbones, and yet he looked less like a hulking brute with said ensemble and more like a shady cult-leader, a schemer. Outside of a few wrinkles for his age he sported no small blemishes, not considering the aforementioned scar.

"We're moving." the giant said. "Have the White Fang clear out this building. We shall send you details and coordinates tonight."

"Coordinates?"

Cinder looked back at Roman. "We're proceeding to Phase Two."

Cinder, Mercury and Emerald began to walk away, the giant remaining behind.

 _Tapdancing fuck, I need a smoke,_ Roman thought to himself. He moved to light a fresh cigar, a Mistral Tom cigar; hard as hell to come by and like a gift from the Mistrali gods—

 _Wait... where's my lighter?_

 _ **Click!**_

He looked up; Sure enough, that girl Emerald had swiped his lighter and had lit it just to show off to him. She stuck out her tongue with an audible, "Blehh," before snapping the lighter shut and tossing back over he shoulder to Roman as she continued after Cinder.

"Heh heh heh, A spitfire that one is," the giant laughed coolly as Roman caught the lighter.

"Yeah, well if I have to work with her any more than I _need_ to, Cinder's fronting me the bill." Roman lit the cigar and took a deep drag from it, savoring the Shion tobacco entering his system; cancer be damned, he couldn't resist a good drag of a cigar. "So," Roman said as he pulled the cigar out of his mouth, "I know you're part of that Eightfold Path group... but mind if I can get a name to go with the face, Mister...?"

"My name is not important at the moment, and I would rather not give it to you at the current moment anyhow; Perhaps once we have begun moving the Dust to its secondary location I will tell you, as it will be far more secluded."

"Why's that?" Roman asked sarcastically. "Considering your team, it's not like you're hiding from the law; Hell, you guys actively want the cops to chase you sometimes, right?"

"Indeed," the giant replied with a laugh, "But regardless, my name is my secret, and I will only let those I deem worthy know my name."

Silence crept up between the two for a solid 10 seconds before Roman decided to try to break the ice from another path. "Nice helmet," he decided on noting as the giant held the piece of armor tucked the crook of his right arm and side, "Got the real spooky evil thing going on."

"Thank you, though flattery is not needed."

"How the hell do you see out of it?"

"Cameras in the eyes, capable of seeing past the brim and give me all the sight I need; 5-times optical zoom, tactical readouts and local positioning systems I stole from an Atlesian prototype."

Roman whistled in impress. "Nice, especially considering that helmet looks pretty damn old. Where'd you get it anyway?"

The giant stayed quiet for a second before he clearly thought of a personal joke, as he chuckled malevolently. He put the helmet back on, the helmet seeming to seal with a sharp _hiss_.

Suddenly, it was as if the man was gone... and a demon had taken his place.

 **"Let's just say it was an inheritance from my father."**

* * *

 **Oh my God, this took too damn long to write! Between class assignments, midterms, _Shadow of War_ and Volume 5 premiering, I've been in a real whirlwind as of late.**

 **Speaking of which, Volume 5, Episode 1: Liked it a lot, got some good start-out points for our main characters, getting much better vibes than I did with Volume 4. Also, Yang turning that dick into a human pinball was worth the $13 I had to shell out for a ticket to the Fathom Events premiere in theaters.**

 **Anyways, next chapter Jacob finally meets his foes, a wild Wulfrik the Wanderer appears and _Ciaphas Cain is coming to town~!_ **

**EDIT: Realized the bit with one of my other models was creepy, so I decided to remove mention of it altogether. Now it is just the other two, and the reason for them all being there will crop up next Chapter for a bit of deviation/team-bonding.**

 **To all those who've continued to support my story I once again want to thank you from the bottom of my heart that you've been willing to put up with the delays and just reading through this story.**

 **If you're new to this story and have enjoyed it, follow and favorite as you see fit, critiques and comments are welcomed with open arms**

 **Thank you all for joining me and I will see you... in the next Chapter... Buh-bye~!**


	19. Welcome to Beacon

**Well, clearly last chapter was mediocre at best. I'm gonna go back and edit it heavily as soon as this chapter is out.**

 **Well, now that the mushy stuff is done, now is the time for Villains to meet Heroes... After I shamelessly put the CRWBY (The characters, not the creators) through their first match of 40k.**

 **Also, that one conversion that some of you saw in the previous chapter but now isn't there? Again, I decided to add her later on at a point where there's a little more emotional oomph for it. But she will be mentioned here in this chapter.**

* * *

 **Chapter 19: Welcome to Beacon**

 _"Heroes are defined by their villains. Batman is nothing if he doesn't have Two-Face."_ — _Greg Rucka_

* * *

 _ **Sip**._

The time was 10:25 in the morning. One minute until he should arrive.

 _ **Sip**._

 _Where on Remnant is that boy? I told him to be 10 minutes early so we could debrief him before we met with James..._

Outside, the sparse clouds hung low, a thin blanket over the city of Vale. Considering it was the start of July, it was rather odd that the monsoons had picked up so early this year; normally in Vale they started around mid-August, even on years when the forecasts predicted higher precipitation throughout the year and yet for some reason they had started up so early...

"Quite the omen, don't you think?"

"Hmm? I'm sorry Professor, I wasn't paying attention considering..."

"I was just commenting about the weather, Glynda; the monsoons are quite early this year, don't you think?"

"Actually, now that you mention it," Glynda began, "it has been unusually rainy as of late."

Ozpin hummed as he dwelled upon the idea. "Perhaps Mother Nature is giving us a break this year after the longer drought last year. Goodness knows the farmers out on the edge of the Kingdom's lands could use it more than us here in the city."

Outside, the cloud cover continued to drift lazily over Vale, the sun peaking through in spots to kiss the steel, brick and mortar of the city below. No rain had actually fallen yet, but Ozpin was not one to say "never," and what was a little rain anyhow.

"Has the mess hall been holding strong since yesterday's debacle?" Ozpin asked.

He glanced aside to see Glynda standing astride him, staring out towards the landing pads along Beacon's northern flank. The tower had a grand viewpoint of the surrounding academy, giving Ozpin the ability to watch over his Academy and his students—at least from a macro-management standpoint.

Glynda growled. "Everything is stable and secure," she said with a huff, "but I'm thinking from now on we ask Jacob to keep an eye on those two groups, or at least ask him to mediate should they do that again."

"It was just a simple playfight Glynda," Ozpin reassured her again, "all things considered we've seen much worse in previous teams."

Glynda huffed and relaxed a bit, though he could see she was still as tightly coiled as a suspension wire; a few wrong steps and she could snap.

Their attention returned to the outside. from out of the cloudy skies, a massive airship parted the cloud-cover and descended towards the larger landing pads. It was easily closing in on 200 feet long, 30 feet tall and probably in the nature of 70 feet across, big, black and sleek, to all the world looking like a massive black dagger slipping out from behind the veil of the sky to nestle itself in a titan's back. Bullheads zoomed by it that by comparison were small enough to be as to it what a sparrow was to an eagle. Despite the militaristic appearance, it was purely designed so that people on board could travel the skies in peace and in style, thanks in no part to the _generous donations_ from various socialites from Atlas _and_ the battery of small arms along the hull to protect it from Grimm that also flew the unfriendly skies.

An Atlesian Skyhawk. Massive and sleek, a vehicle built for luxury that could easily become a battleship in a few days of reconfiguration.

Ozpin felt it both was a testament to his philosophy of the sword becoming the ploughshare _and_ a mockery of it.

 **Beep! Beep! Beep!**

A request to enter pinged from the elevators.

Ozpin turned on the security cameras inside the elevator. It was Jacob.

Ozpin looked down at his Scroll's clock.

 _10:27. Well, better late than never._

"Come in," he called out.

The door opened up and in stepped their newest initiate. He wore a focused look in his eyes, and a more confident stride than usual told Ozpin that Jacob had at least already been sizing up the situation and wanted to give James Ironwood a good first impression.

"Morning, Professors," Jacob said as he entered the office. "Sorry I'm late, had to deal with laundry after yesterday's foodfight. And yes Glynda, sorry I let that get out of hand."

She didn't answer, but she did nod in acknowledgement.

"It's quite alright Jacob," Ozpin said as he walked up to him, "I was merely concerned that you wouldn't make it to the meeting. James Ironwood is not one for tardiness, and I figured that it would bode well in your favor if you got on his good side."

Jacob smiled and only nodded once. "Considering he's head of the largest armed force on the planet as well as the headmaster of Atlas' Huntsman Academy, I wouldn't expect less." Jacob's smile suddenly vanished as his gaze was tugged out towards the landing pads. "Whoa," he said as he came up to the window, "That's an Atlesian airship?"

"Indeed," Ozpin said dryly as he joined Jacob in looking outside. Another two had joined the first airship and had begun unloading their passengers, most of them Huntsmen and Huntresses of Atlas Academy here for the Vytal Festival... some 400 of them if what James said was true.

"Jesus Christ," said Jacob in awe, "I wouldn't want to meet them in the unfriendly skies, that's for sure. Funny enough, I was expecting them to come by boat, not by plane."

The word "plane" caught Ozpin's attention; no one in any of the Kingdoms called airships "planes". Storing that detail away, Ozpin answered the unasked question Jacob had posed. "Considering Atlas' technological prowess," he began as he hid the sarcasm in his voice, "and 'proud nature', Im not in the least bit surprised that they're coming in from the skies rather than by ship."

"Goodness knows that Ironwood certainly loves to bring his _work_ with him whenever he travels," Glynda growled.

"Well," Ozpin began, "Running an academy and a military makes him a busy man. But yes, those are a definite eyesore."

 **Beep! Beep! Beep!**

The elevator again. "That must be James. Come in!"

The doors opened and out stepped the figure of Headmaster-General James Ironwood. Ozpin always forgot how different James was now from that fresh-faced boy that had first joined the Inquisition so many years ago; James' features were beginning to look weathered and rugged, and Ozpin couldn't ignore the beginnings of gray hair along James' temples. Despite the signs of age beginning to creep up on him, Ironwood was still the epitome of health, lean but broad-shouldered under that white overcoat, blue-grey undercoat and black sweater, though Ozpin knew that behind the coats, grey dress pants and white glove on his right side his body had been replaced with a great deal of cybernetics from when...

Well, it wasn't good to dwell too much on the past.

"Ozpin," James exclaimed in delight as he entered the office.

"Hello, General," Ozpin replied as he stood at attention; it would have been rude to not, even if they were of the same overall rank technically.

"Please, drop the formalities," he said as the two met in the center of the room and shook hands, "It's been too long." Ironwood's attention turned to Ozpin's right and a big smile appeared. "And Glynda, it's certainly been too long since we last met!"

Ozpin eyed Glynda wearily; James had a tendency to push Glynda's buttons just right.

"Oh you," she feigned flattery with a flirty wave. She leaned in close to Ozpin and whispered, "I'll be downstairs."

As the doors closed behind Glynda, Ironwood laughed and said, "Well, she hasn't changed a bit." His gaze suddenly seemed to stop on something behind Ozpin. "Ozpin, did I interrupt a meeting with one of your students?"

Ozpin turned and looked to see Jacob standing astride his desk, standing at attention though he seemed far from intimidated by Ironwood. "Well," Jacob began as he walked towards them slowly, "Yes and no, General Ironwood, sir."

Ozpin figured now was as good of a time to interject as any. "James," he began as Jacob closed the distance between them, "I'd like you to meet Jacob Muller... our newest initiate."

There was a tense silence as Ironwood looked over the boy and sized him up. "So, you're the boy that caught Ozpin's eye and Amber's ear," he said finally. He reached out his right arm in a handshake. Jacob took it and soon found himself in the vice-like grip of James' robotic hand, though he seemed to be trying to hide the pain he was feeling as he desperately tried to return the firm grip. "A pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine, General," Jacob said as he bit back what was clearly the urge to cry out in pain.

"Firm grip for small hands like that," James said jokingly.

"Funny," Jacob hissed, "I'm told that I've got a grip like a baby."

The two let go of their handshake, Jacob cradling his right hand as he flexed it in testing. In what to Ozpin felt like a clear contest of the dominance of wills, Ironwood had more than come out on top of that duel.

"There's a lot of potential in you," James said with a smile. "You'll be a great asset to the Inquisition, I guarantee it."

"Thank you, General. Well, no disrespect intended, now that we're done measuring firearms," Jacob said with a laugh, "I have a feeling that Ozpin's wanting to talk to you."

Both Ozpin and James laughed heartily at that comment. "Indeed," Ozpin said as he moved over to his desk, "I actually was wondering, what in the world has brought you all the way down as Atlas. Headmasters don't typically travel with their students for the Vytal Festival." Ozpin moved to pour fresh coffee from the kettle sitting on his desk, offering mugs to both Jacob and James.

"Well, you know how much I love Vale this time of year," James said as he took out a canteen of what was probably his favorite Atlesian whiskey and spiked the coffee. To his left Jacob picked up a lone sugar cube and split it in half before dumping one half into his drink. Jacob took a hesitant swig, but immediately started coughing; clearly coffee was not in his palette. Yet he soldiered on with a transparent smile of courtesy as James took a drink from his. "Besides," he continued, "with you hosting I thought it might be a good opportunity for us to catch up."

Ozpin felt that this was a loaded answer. "I can certainly appreciate quality time between friends," he said as he topped off his own mug and sat down in his chair, "however the small fleet of ships outside my window has me concerned."

"Well," Ironwood said as his face turned into a frown, "concern _is_ what brought me here."

 _Now we're getting to the point._

"I understand travel between kingdoms has become increasing difficult—"

"Oz," James interrupted, "You and both know _why_ I brought those men. And so does Mr. Muller, if what you said is true."

 _I knew it,_ Ozpin thought to himself.

He took a drink from his mug and sat it down on the desk with a sigh. "We are at a time of peace, James. Shows of power like this... are just going to give off the wrong impression."

"But if what Qrow said was true..." James paused as he looked over at Jacob and then back to Ozpin. "How much _does_ he know?"

"He knows about the Maidens... and about Salem as well," Ozpin confirmed with a nod.

"And the Relics?"

Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Jacob had stopped and was listening intently. Both turned and looked at him intently.

Jacob returned their intense stares with a nervous glance around the room; they were both intimidating him fiercely, Ozpin quickly deduced. "Oookay," Jacob said as he finished another small sip of coffee, "clearly I'm not as in the loop as I need to be, but let's focus on the big threat coming to skin us alive, shall we? If what I've heard from Ruby is true, we're talking about Qrow Branwen, right?"

Ozpin arched an eyebrow. "I take it she informed you that he is her uncle?"

"Yeah," Jacob said as he set down the mug and sat in the chair to the right hand side in front of Ozpin. "Regardless, he's part of... The Inquisition, right?"

Both men nodded at the boy, Ozpin noting the hesitance in Jacob's voice at the mention of their organization's name.

"So, what's this message from him?"

"Three simple words," Ironwood said plainly. "'Queen has Pawns.'"

"Queen has Pawns... Salem has cronies, boots on the ground as it were, I would guess?"

"Precisely. As I was saying, if what Qrow said is true—"

"If what Qrow said is true," Ozpin began as he interrupted James, "then we will handle it tactfully. It's the Vytal Festival, James; A time to celebrate unity and peace. So I suggest you don't scare the people of Remnant by transporting hundreds of soldiers halfway across the planet."

"I'm just being precautious," James replied sternly.

"As am I," Ozpin replied calmly, "which is why we will continue to train the best Huntsmen and Huntresses—and Inquisitors in some cases—as we can."

"Believe me, I am." General Ironwood turned and began to walk towards the elevators, stopping halfway across.

"But ask yourself this: Do you honestly believe that your _children_ can win a war?"

And with that, Ironwood walked inside the doors of the elevator and vanished behind the burnished green doors.

War. What an ugly word and an even uglier event. Ozpin had borne witness to too much war for one life, even if it had been some 80 years since it had occurred.

But he never wanted to see such life lost in such a way ever again.

"I hope they never have to," he said to Jacob as the elevator carrying James Ironwood descended to the ground below.

Jacob's brow furrowed as the obvious signs of a deep memory haunting his mind danced in front of his eyes. " I pray to God that they never do," he muttered solemnly.

Ozpin didn't have to be psychic to know who Jacob was talking about.

"...So," Jacob began in a clear attempt to break the tense silence, "I probably will have to wait on an explanation of these Relics?"

* * *

The silent hum of the elevator was the only thing he heard on the way down. The air inside was cold in no small part due to the vents coming from what was probably an onboard AC unit. Had he been outside at the time this would have felt like a gust of divine wind from Heaven, and even then considering home he had never been a stranger to extreme temperatures.

 _...What are those damn Relics?_

10 minutes had passed since Ironwood had left Ozpin's office, and Jacob was now riding the elevator down to the ground level; Ozpin hadn't given him any information on the Relics, stating that, "The time being was not conducive for telling him everything at the moment," and that for now Jacob should, "focus on his training and socializing for now."

"...Damn it Oz," Jacob hissed through his teeth, "You're not making my job any easier by keeping me in the dark. How am I supposed to help you if you won't help me?"

He leaned back against the wall, his brow furrowed in anger as he stared back up at the ceiling. With a heavy sigh, he continued to ponder everything thus far; Now that Ironwood was here with the Atlesian Army, tensions were about to start skyrocketing. With Roman and the White Fang stirring up crime throughout the city, the Grimm would be more and more drawn to Vale as a tasty meal to chow down on with gleeful abandon, which would in turn beef up security, which would in turn feed people's fears, so on and so forth _ad nauseum_.

Granted, it was probably for the better that the defensive ranks were getting beefed up in preparation for the Vytal Festival; more boots on the ground would save far more lives in the Battle of Beacon... up until those Atlesian robotic troops would get hit with the Queen Virus that Cinder cooked up. _What were they called again? Were they the Paladins or were they the Knights?_ He honestly couldn't remember, and he wasn't about to go have it clarified with Ironwood when the General had yet to reveal them to the public.

The hum continued as he closed in on the ground level. It was a minute to travel from Ozpin's office down to the ground, and fortunately he didn't have to worry about people coming from the CCT Center and crowding the elevator; He had learned from inquiry that the elevator to Ozpin's office was standalone and simply led to the office, ground floor, and The Vault.

10 seconds to ground level, Jacob realized that he hadn't visited Amber in nearly a month. Sure, what was she gonna say being comatose, but it wasn't like anyone else was coming to visit her.

And no one should be alone for too long.

5 seconds to ground level.

Quickly, he opened the numberpad and typed in the code to access the Vault.

 _0-7-1-8-1-3._

The elevator zoomed past the ground floor, onwards and downwards to The Vault.

Jacob let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. It would be another minute or so until he arrived.

With a minute to burn, he glanced down at his phone and scrolled through before deciding to turn on BattleScribe out of boredom. Fortunately for him, despite having the old 7th Edition Codexes with him he had managed to download all of the 8th Edition Indexes the week before he had left, giving him an opportunity to compare and contrast the two editions of Warhammer 40,000. The sudden addition of variant movement distances had definitely thrown him off when he had played his first and probably only game of 1000 points of his Storm Wraiths Space Marines against 1000 points of Tyranids painted up with the purple and white colors of Hive Fleet Leviathan. He remembered writing up a storyline as for what was going on, how this splinter of Leviathan had broken off from the main fleet and had begun ravaging planets on the way to Catachan only to be stopped by the Storm Wraiths on an Agri-World 70 light-years from the 'roided-out Vietnam expy planet.

Well, stopped with the help of... his Pyrrha-Celestine conversion.

It had been just after he had watched Season 3 for the first time in February, and at the same time the new sets for the Gathering Storm event had been released about the same time. He had received a St. Celestine model with her two Gemini bodyguards from a friend who had simply wanted the Archmagos Cawl model out of the Triumvirate of the Imperium box set, and at the time he had getting truly familiar with conversion work.

In an admittedly morose—and probably insane—frenzy he had conjured the idea to use some of the third-party female conversion heads he had received for his Guardsmen over Christmas, and with a little help from some Green Stuff modeling epoxy he managed to create a version of the new plastic model of Celestine the Living Saint in the likeness of Pyrrha Nikos. Granted, he hadn't been able to paint on her tiara, let alone model it on, but Celestine's Iron Halo technically worked for the same aesthetic feel. He'd even taken the time and the headaches to scrape off the fleur-de-lis and other heraldry on Celestine's leg armor and smoothed it out so they could be painted as bare legs to complete the ensemble as accurately as he could.

Just now thinking about that project, Jacob was overcome with a sense of embarrassment; Considering where he was now and the fact that he was now _friends_ with her, that wasn't just creepy, that was down-right nuts...

 **Ding!**

The doors opened, and once again the Vault stretched out before him. The hall was silent as the grave, the dim emerald light casting long claws across the walls like a den of ancient and terrible beasts of some forgotten abyss.

Jacob stepped out of the elevator and into the long and cavernous hallway with a few trepid steps. He expected his footsteps to echo ferociously throughout The Vault, announcing his presence to anyone who may also be down here, but found that his footfalls echoed no more than they normally did in the halls of the auditorium.

The walk to Amber's stasis pod was quiet and somber as Jacob continued to think to himself. He hadn't really noticed it before but at a pace more akin to a morning walk in the park it was a solid 3-minute walk from the elevators to the stasis pods, not counting the minute and a half he took to stare down the corridor at the halfway point that led to the initiation room... and the statue that looked uncannily like Malcador the Sigillite.

Jacob decided that maybe it was for the better that he should just focus on checking up on Amber.

Finally, the soft glow of Amber's stasis pod arrived in his line of sight... the same as it ever was; no visual signs that she was doing better, no changes to be found.

A heavy sigh echoed down the hallway, originating from Jacob. "I really shouldn't have expected any different," he muttered to himself.

He walked up to the massive machine and stared down into the pod. There, the Fall Maiden laid in her comatose sleep, her body too weak to heal itself and still too strong to simply give up and die.

"Hey Amber," he said quietly, "how're you holding up?"

No answer but for the same silence a grave would give him.

"...Sorry I haven't been down in a while," he continued, "I... uhm, got tied up with things as of late."

Again, no answer.

He sighed heavily and sat down astride the pod. "What do you care," he said to Amber, "it's not like you can really hold a conversation with me." Jacob leaned back against the pod and looked up into the shadow-cloaked, deep-green ceiling.

"It's nice to be able to talk about these things with someone... Lord knows I can't really say anything until it's too late. If I say anything too early, than the main timeline becomes forfeit and... Ruby and Yang and Weiss, Blake, Jaune, Nora, Ren, all of them become just as easily on the chopping block as Pyrrha and Penny are at this current moment—well, _will be_ is probably the optimum word. If any one of them gets hurt _or worse_ because I didn't play my cards right, I would be just as ashamed of myself as if I let Pyrrha and Penny die. But then there's you, Amber... and for you I realize that there's nothing I can do. Look at me for fuck's sake, I'm using you—the Fall Maiden, comatose and without an heir to either your power or your name—as my Goddamned sounding board. I'm lying to Ozpin about knowing you just so I can stay at Beacon and train up, I have no real choice but to either let events play out as they were set to be by Monty, or I forsake "canon" and throw caution to the wind like a headstrong teen! Fuck it, I _am_ a headstrong teen in a way if I take into account what I was like back home!"

Jacob launched onto his feet in frustration. He let out a very agitated growl as he ran his hands through his hair; what he would give right now for a satin tag to rub to alleviate his stress was a laundry list and a half. "What do I do, Amber!?" How can I save them all, how can I keep them safe," Jacob shouted, "When the only way to keep them safe could threaten a Kingdom! I mean, sure I owe no allegiance to Vale, but how well do you think I could sleep at night if I saved them at the cost of hundreds! I don't want to be selfish, but being selfless puts them all at risk! Especially Pyrrha!"

He rounded on the pod and slammed a balled fist into the chassis, the impact forcing a resounding thud down the hallway and into the darkness.

Amber's heart monitor remained stable, to his relief.

"Sorry," he muttered as he leaned over what in truth was to be her coffin and held his head in his hands, "I'm just... I'm just frustrated with how this is going, with what my options are at the moment. Your attacker—Cinder Fall—moves against us all, and considering what I've seen of her, I don't stand a snowball's chance in hell of trumping her unless I use subterfuge and keep lying my way to victory. But the truth will eventually come out, and I when it does... will they hate me for not telling them? What will Pyrrha think of me then? Ruby? Yang? Jaune? What do I do, Amber... What do I do?"

No response.

"It doesn't help," he said as his voice cracked, "That about 2 weeks ago now...well, I went and killed a kid in self-defense. Yeah, how would you feel about me now? Took a life to save my own skin, some hero of the people I'll end up being long-term."

His face felt flushed and hot. His pulse was furious, his palms were already damp with sweat as he stewed in his anger and fear.

"I'm afraid Amber... I know I'm afraid, and I don't know how to stop fearing for them all... They're all capable fighters... but this is a foe beyond any of them, and beyond me by a longshot. What do I do?"

He shouldn't have expected an answer. Cold, hard logic dictated that Amber couldn't answer him even if he tried his hardest to talk to her.

So why was it he could swear that the pod felt the slightest bit warmer to his touch?

"I know that kind of fear all too well."

Jacob's already-racing heart took a flying leap into his throat as he wheeled and drew Cadia from his belt in an unsteady quickdraw; His stance was off-balance and a sweeping kick would have easily made him hit the ground face-first. Pyrrha would not have been happy with that.

"Easy soldier," said the figure as it moved closer. Out of the dimmed light, General Ironwood walked out, his hands in the air and a calm demeanor to his stance.

Jacob rolled his eyes in embarrassed frustration and put his pistol away with a heavy sigh. _Facade back on,_ Jacob thought to himself. "Jesus Christ," he said exasperatedly, "sorry about that General. Thought someone from Salem's team had followed me down here."

Ironwood arched an eyebrow. "Why would you think that?"

Jacob flinched ever so slightly at his faux-pas, but quickly shrugged and tilted his head aside, as to suggest he was considering a hunch. "Considering the jump in activity for both the White Fang and Roman Torchwick's goons, something tells me that's not a coincidence. I think Salem's "pawns" are recruiting pawns of their own."

"And you were of the mindset that someone could have followed you down here to either kill Amber or report back to Salem about it. Precaution and preparedness," Ironwood noted as he walked up to Jacob and placed his left hand—his augmented hand, Jacob remembered—onto his shoulder. "I can appreciate that mindset; God knows Ozpin could learn a thing or two from that."

"I know, right? I swear," Jacob said with a roll of his eyes, "he's letting his guard down when there is _clear_ signs that the enemy's looking for a back to sink a dagger into."

Ironwood smiled at that. "Glad to see that there is something we can agree on, Mr Muller." He turned and looked down at Amber, a sadness in his eyes as he scanned her up and down, as if looking for something.

"How long have you been standing there, actually?" Jacob asked as a creeping fear of being discovered coursed up his spine.

"Less than a minute actually," Ironwood said matter-of-factly. "I take it there was something I wasn't supposed to hear before, 'I don't stand a snowball's chance in hell'?"

Jacob's stomach stopped readying for a backflip as he came down from his terror; he hadn't been discovered... yet. "Just, uh, just something Amber and I promised one another before she left," he lied calmly, "just that we would both stay safe and all."

Ironwood nodded in understanding as silence assumed control of the room. After a minute, Jacob decided to strike up a conversation.

"So, General—"

"Please," Ironwood interrupted, "You may be my junior in age, but as long as you are part of the Inquisition, we're colleagues. Call me James... or just Ironwood if you prefer."

"Right... James. How much as Ozpin told you about me?"

"A lot actually," Ironwood replied, "and from what he's reported, you were made of stern stuff even before you joined the ranks of the Huntsmen Academies."

Jacob snorted a bit at that. "I doubt it; all things considered I have Pyrrha and Jaune to thank for saving me, otherwise by now I would have long since left the ass-end of a Beowolf as a brown log, not to put too fine a point on it."

Ironwo—James replied with a laugh of his own. "Considering that bite mark on your arm, I doubt that would have been the case. An Ursa's bite on a good day is known to take a man's arm off at the bone. Either it was an already weak Ursa, or physically you're already quite durable."

A now all-too-familiar twinge coursed up Jacob's left forearm. _Goddamnit,_ he thought to himself, _Not again. Why does it keep doing that?_

"I think it may have already been weakened," Jacob replied in earnest, "Since Yang had been fighting it and its sibling for a few minutes before we arrived. Still, what's a scar or two if they mark a victory, I suppose."

Ironwood visibly winced at that sentiment, his own left arm going rigid as if it were struck on a nerve. Ironwood cleared his throat and said, "Fair enough. I also wanted to say something in regards to what happened at the Wharf District those few weeks ago."

Jacob's turn to flinch. The image of the kid's face rose to the surface of his mind like a macabre mug shot, but was quickly banished with a shake of Jacob's head. "...What about it?"

"Ozpin briefed me on what happened; the fight with Torchwick and... what happened with that boy. I'm sorry that you had to take that shot; it's never pleasant to take a life... especially one that young."

"Please don't remind me," Jacob said as his stomach roiled and nearly forced him to double over. Two weeks out, and it was all still troubling to think about, regardless of all the hugs he could get from Pyrrha and Ruby when the memory did flare up.

"But that being said," Ironwood continued, "What happened out there was an unfortunate series of circumstances. You did what you had to, just like any soldier would in a battle. It wasn't pleasant... but then again all things considered, our task is the farthest thing from pleasant as well."

"...That's not very comforting, James," Jacob said flatly.

"It wasn't meant to be," Ironwood replied. "Now that Salem seems to be reinforcing her ranks, there may come a time that you must again take a life. But the only comforting thought I can give you is that if it comes to that, every life you end can possibly save far more lives. Every enemy that you fell had the potential to take someone away from their family and friends; _Your_ friends and loved ones could be put in danger if you fail."

Jacob felt the faintest spark of heat in his chest as a name came to mind:

 _Cinder._

Ironwood's words rang clear with his inner American: If he lets the enemy get away, others will suffer and die for his failure.

 _Pyrrha. Penny._

His hands balled into fists.

 _I won't let them suffer because I failed._

After a minute of letting his stomach finish roiling, Jacob righted himself with a deep breath and a stern gaze. "You're right," he said with a huff and a nod of his head, "You're absolutely right."

"Glad to hear it," Ironwood replied. "Now, I'm going to suggest that we both stay vigilant, but take Ozpin's words into consideration at the very least."

Jacob looked up at James with a cocked eyebrow. "I thought you were not one to rest on your laurels, what gives?"

Ironwood sighed as he turned and looked back at Amber. "There's a reason the Ozpin's the leader of The Inquisition, Jacob. As much as I am on high alert, Ozpin _is_ right to some degree. It's the Vytal Festival, and it does us no good to run ourselves ragged when the rest of Vale is in celebration. We'll both keep our eyes peeled, but we should only act if things start heating up."

A smirk lined Jacob's lips. "Fair enough," he replied, "though I will admit that I agree with you that Ozpin's being perhaps too complacent."

Ironwood smiled back. "Well, at least someone else is on high alert."

Jacob looked back down at Amber, and the tiniest lick of sadness lapped against him like the tide on a placid beach.

"If you don't mind James," Jacob said, "I think I should take my leave now, if you don't mind."

"I think it may be best if you get away from here for a bit," Ironwood replied. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Muller."

Jacob nodded and said, "A pleasure to meet you, General Ironwood, sir."

And as he began to walk away, his mind conjured the rhythmic _rat-tat-tapping_ of snare drums. His gait became more furious and controlled, as if he were marching to war.

A smile graced his face as he came to a conclusion.

 _Maybe it would be fun to teach these kids how to play Warhammer 40k._

He gazed down at his phone and pulled up BattleScribe.

 _The Warrior Song_ began to play out in his mind.

 _I've got the reach and the teeth of a killing machine,_

 _With the need to bleed you when the light goes green,_

 _Best believe I'm in the zone to be,_

 _from my Yin to my Yang to my_ —

* * *

"Yang Xiao Long, prepare your Kingdom for battle!"

"Bring it on!"

"I deploy the Atlesian Air Fleet!"

Yang let out a gasp of surprise.

 _Even I could hear the melodrama in that,_ Pyrrha thought to herself.

"Looks like I get to fly right over your Ursai and attack your walls directly!"

"You fiend!"

"And since Atlas is part of Mantle, my repair time only lasts 1 turn."

Yang snickered. "Pretty sneaky sis, but you just activate my _trap card!_ Giant Nevermore!"

"Whaa!?" Ruby screamed as the sound of fist meeting a desk resonated in Pyrrha's right ear.

"If I roll a seven or higher, fatal feathers will slice your fleet in two!"

"But, if you roll a six or lower, the Nevermore will turn on your own forces!"

"That's just a risk I'll have to take..."

Pyrrha sighed to herself. _I can appreciate having a little fun... but do they have to be so loud in the library?_

Pyrrha looked up from her Grimm Studies textbook as she took stock of everyone in their little super-group. Professor Port had already begun intermediate Grimm breeds like Beringels and Deathstalkers, and Pyrrha had suggested that they all get a head-start on studying for the inevitable pop exam Port was known for using.

On her left, her partner Jaune sat initially studying, though only now she had noticed that he had exchanged his textbook for an _X-Ray & Vav_ comic, while Nora slept on top of the textbook Ren was studying from.

 _Maybe this wasn't as good of an idea as I initially thought it would be,_ Pyrrha thought to herself.

She cleared her throat at Jaune and quickly swapped the comic book in his hands for her textbook, deciding to take a few minutes for a break to have a read of the comic; granted, she wasn't one for _X-Ray and Vav_ , but none of her romance novels or her classics were on hand, and it didn't hurt to try and read something new for a change. But despite her best efforts, RWBY's

"Well, Weiss," Yang said, "it's your turn."

"I have... absolutely no idea what's going on," she heard Weiss lament.

"Look, it's easy! You're playing as Vacuo which means that all Vacuo-based cards come with a bonus..."

As Yang continued to chatter on about their game, Pyrrha's thoughts turned to the Vytal Festival; both teams had qualified to represent Vale and Beacon Academy along with CFVY and a few others, and in the meantime the buzz about the Beacon Dance was beginning to reach a fever pitch. Already a few couples were springing up around the school, though no one had asked anyone from RWBY or JNPR to the dance. Admittedly Pyrrha had never attended a dance before, not even at Sanctum when there were far more boys chasing after her than here by comparison. Despite that, Weiss and Yang had both confirmed that they would be at the dance, albeit as coordinators.

 _That should be interesting to see,_ Pyrrha thought to herself with an amused smile. Considering the two were polar opposites, the party was more than likely to swing from formal ballroom dance to a raucous, rollicking party with wild music and dances in a heartbeat. Pyrrha was hoping a bit more for the ballroom dance type, wild parties weren't her forte if she was being honest with herself.

But who would go with her? She was Pyrrha Nikos, the Champion of Mistral, a star in her own right...

No one thought themselves worthy.

 _Everyone, except Jaune,_ she wistfully thought to herself. He had never treated her like some demigoddess that was beyond his grasp, some idol to be worshipped and coveted like so many guys back at Sanctum had treated her.

To him, she was just Pyrrha Nikos, his partner. His friend.

And it kind of made her heart flutter.

"...Pyrrha, are you okay?"

Pyrrha blinked twice and shook her head as a male voice pulled her out from her session of self-reflection. "I-I'm sorry, what's wrong?"

It was Jaune that spoke up, as he was looking up from his "I was asking if you're feeling okay Pyrrha. You look like you're running a fever."

"What? Jaune, I feel fine," she replied in assurance.

"But your cheeks are all rosy," he said with a worried furrow on his brow.

Pyrrha felt her stomach hitch a little. Now that he mentioned it, she did feel a little hot and bothered under the collar... as well as in the face.

 _Oh gods, am I... blushing?_

"I, uhm, I-I'm fine Jaune," she weakly stuttered, "B-being in the sun must be heating me up." Without a moment's hesitation, she drilled holes in her textbook as she tried to hide her embarrassment.

And then suddenly, Weiss assumed command of everyone's attention... as usual.

"Yes! Fear the almighty power of my forces! Cower as they pillage your homes and weep as they take your children from your very arms!"

Without warning, yang flashed another card in Weiss' face. "Trap card," was all she said before she swiped pieces from Weiss' side of the board in a flurry of resin and gloved fingers. Weiss only had enough time to utter a confused cry before Yang finished, declaring proudly, "Your armies have been destroyed."

"I hate this game of emotions we play!" Weiss cried as she slumped back into her chair.

Without warning, Ruby flew into Weiss' lap, hugging her closely. "Stay strong, Weiss," she said through an attempt at a cry, "We'll make it through this together!" Weiss simply replied, "Shut up, don't touch me!"

Yang leaned back and rested her hands up behind her head. "Alright Blake, you're up."

It was at this point that Pyrrha noticed Blake was not actually paying attention to what was going on around her; for all intents and purposes, she seemed to be in the same place as Pyrrha had been moments ago, deep in the landscape of her own mind. "Oh, um, sorry, what am I doing?"

"You're playing as Vale," Yang replied, "trying to conquer the Kingdoms of Remnant!" Pyrrha thought back to the last time she had seen this game in Mistral: this game, while popular in both Vale and Atlas, hadn't taken as much root in Mistral, mainly due to the lack of intrigue on part of the populace and poor marketing on part of the company that created the game.

But before that thought could go any further, her vision was soon obstructed as Jaune passed in front of her and walked up to RWBY's table. "Hey, can I play?"

Pyrrha rolled her eyes and smiled. As much as she wanted to study and by extension wanted him to study, maybe it was for the better that they take a break for a bit.

"Sorry Jaune," Ruby replied, "we've already got 4 people."

"Besides," Weiss snidely began, "this game requires a certain level of tactical cunning that I seriously doubt that you possess." Pyrrha furrowed her brow at that remark to her partner.

It was Yang however who countered the heiress' statement. "Uhh, you attacked your own naval fleet 2 turns ago." The annoyed sound that Weiss made was unusually satisfying to Pyrrha's ears.

Jaune puffed out his chest and said, "Bring it on, Ice Queen! I'll have you know that I have been told that I am a natural born leader!"

"By who? Your mother?" Weiss replied.

Jaune's confidence soured quickly as he replied, "A-and Pyrrha!"

"Hello again!" Pyrrha called out, though no one on RWBY acknowledged her. That was actually kind of a new experience for her... she wasn't sure if she liked it or not; leaning more towards _yes_ no doubt, but still...

Jaune bent down and began to plead. "Come on, let me play your hand for a turn!"

Weiss pulled back her cards close to her chest. "I'm not trusting you with the good citizens of Vacuo," she retorted.

"Why not," Jaune replied. "You've trusted me with way more important stuff before."

Pyrrha felt a sudden lurch in her stomach. Jaune was about to be stupid again.

"I mean, you told us all that Blake is secretly a Fa—"

Pyrrha darted over to Jaune with inhuman speed, slapping a hand over his mouth and saying, "—Fun-loving person, whom we all admire and respect!"

A collective glance from everyone lined itself at Blake, who clearly was not amused about her secret nearly getting out.

"Right. That. Ladies, enjoy your battle." And with a bow, Jaune turned and began to return to his seat. A few seconds later however, a set of footsteps announced a newcomer's presence.

"'Sup losers!"

Pyrrha's gaze snapped up as none other than Sun Wukong rounded the corner, holding his fingers in a "peace" sign as he walked up to the table RWBY was at. "Hey Sun," Ruby replied. Just then, another boy rounded the corner, the one that she recognized from the mess hall that had been with Sun and Jacob. He was fairly distinct with that lapis-blue hair and maroon jacket, but they hadn't gotten the chance to be formally introduced to him yet. Even then though, she had seen him at Sanctum Academy in the past, as part of the bookworm clique that formed up in her class.

 _Speaking of those two,_ she thought to herself, _where_ is _Jacob? He was supposed to meet us here after his meeting with Professor Ozpin..._

"Ruby, Yang, Blake... Ice Queen," Sun addressed each of the girls.

"Why does everyone keep calling me that?" Weiss lamented from Sun's greeting.

"I never got a chance to formally introduce you to my old friend."

"Uhh, aren't libraries for reading," the bluenette asked the assembled teams. "Thank you!" Ren cried out as Nora awoke from her nap with a loud cry of "Pancakes!"

"Shut up," Sun chided the other student, "Don't be a nerd."

"Geh-geh-geh-geh! 'Intellectual', okay?" The boy raised a finger to enunciate his point. "Thank you. Anyways, I'm Neptune."

"So Neptune, where are you from? Weiss asked with a tone that Pyrrha felt may have been a bit flirty.

The boy—Neptune— grew a massive grin across his face. "Haven," he said as he sauntered over towards Weiss, "And I don't believe I've caught your name, snow angel."

"Um, I'm Weiss, she replied in the kindest voice Pyrrha had ever heard from the heiress. Beside Pyrrha, Jaune whispered in aggravation," Are you kidding me!?"

Hearing that Jaune was still continuing to chase Weiss for some reason made her feel... sad wasn't the right word for it... not depressed, not downtrodden... dejected?

While she was grappling with the sudden subtle emotion, Blake had without warning, stood up from her spot at the table and began to walk away as she said, "Right, well, I think I'm done playing actually. I'll see you guys later." And with that, she briskly walked away from the scene.

Everyone stood in silence as they all tried to process what was going on with her. Pyrrha couldn't even tell if she was upset over someone, or something, or is her old defenses were starting to react to Neptune and Sun.

From somewhere behind her, Nora muttered, "Women."

A second later, they heard the faint voice of a man come from the same direction as Blake had headed towards.

"...Hey Blake, where are you... going... Uh, okay then."

Pyrrha felt a little relief; it was Jacob.

However, what he had with him forced her to do a double-take.

Jacob rounded the corner with a smile on his face, a devious look to his eyes, and all of his miniatures from his desk in his hands. When Jacob had allowed the two teams and Team CFVY to enter his dorm, one of the first things she and several others had taken note of were those models, each one macabre or menacing in some form or another.

 _"Oh, they're from a game I played back home,"_ he had told them at the time, " _I'll teach you guys how to play it one of these days... if I can get around to remaking my armies from absolute scratch."_ Pyrrha had a funny feeling that today was that day, full army or not.

"Hey Jacob," Ruby said as he wandered up and commandeered a third table and set down his payload.

"Hey guys," he replied, "sorry I'm late. Professor Ozpin wanted me to meet someone... high up on the totem pole, as it were. But after that episode of nerve-wracking, I needed a bit of a wind-down, as it were."

"Who was it?" Jaune asked as he walked up to Jacob.

"Well... just someone here for the Vytal Festival," Jacob hesitantly said, "let's put it at that."

Ruby, Yang, Weiss and Pyrrha all shared a collective glance at one another as they registered how he said that; clearly it was some kind of secret, but what was so secret that he had to keep it from them?

"Wait a minute," Yang said as they returned their attention back to Jacob, "I thought you said that the game needed a whole army to play?"

"Well, yes," Jacob replied as he held up his hands defensively, "to play the normal version of the game you do, but I kinda came up with a way to just play with individual models like I've got here." At the same time as he said the latter part, he began taking books from the shelves and assembling them in a circular pattern around the center of the table. "Me and the guys back home came up with the idea after a few of us were short on time for a game, since the full-sized game can take in upwards of 4 hours to play depending on the armies." By now a second layer of books was starting to stack up on top of the other ones, this layer made of books more compact in size than the previous layer.

Pyrrha was quick to deduce what it was he was proposing, but it was Neptune who was first to say anything. "Are you... trying to make an arena out of books?"

Jacob's head snapped up as he met Neptune's gaze. "Oh, Neptune, sorry I didn't notice you there. But yes, it's my... _attempt_ at an arena."

Every time Pyrrha saw Jacob compared to everyone else in height, she had to feel sorry for him to be so short. Being 5'5" as a guy was probably a little embarrassing at times when guys like Jaune and Neptune towered nearly a foot over him at 6'3".

"Ookay," Sun said, "I'm a little out of the loop, what game are we talking about here?"

Jacob conjured a smug grin. "Warhammer 40,000 is it's name, but most players call it 40K. 'In the grim-dark future of the 41st Millennium, there is _only war.'"_ On that last bit, he held his hands up and jittered his fingers as if trying to convey the idea as "spooky".

Now this was news to Pyrrha. "Sounds a little dark for a board game," she said with concern.

Jacob pointed a finger at her as he replied, " _Tabletop game,_ it's played directly on the tabletop,, not on a game board. But to answer you, it's all in good fun; honestly the grimdarkness was kinda played for laughs in the past, though nowadays... not so much. But anyways," he continued as he piled the books ever higher, "I had completely forgotten about the Duels my group used to do if we wanted a quick game or two, so I decided to try to play that instead of trying to proxy a full army."

"...Well then," Yang said hesitantly, "good luck with that. Hey Neptune, wanna join in on our game?"

Pyrrha watched as Neptune seemed to debate with himself on which game to play. After a few seconds, he turned around towards RWBY and slid into the seat Blake had been seated in. "A game of Remnant sounds fun, I haven't played in years actually. Sorry if I'm a little rusty..."

As the four of them began their game, Sun and the whole of JNPR congregated around Jacob as he finished building his book-iseum; It was a sizable construct, a circle about two feet in diameter all the way around that reminded her vaguely of the auditorium's fighting ring.

"Alrighty," Jacob began as he clapped his hands together, "so, just before I left, the 8th edition of the game dropped and I got the opportunity to download the basic rules on my phone. Now, the rules for the different armies and by extension characters were supposed to start releasing as of... a month ago, so, what I'm gonna do here..."

Jacob trailed off as he pulled out his "phone"—his people's clear but admirable attempt at a low-tech Scroll—and began to tap away at it. "Well, since all of the Indexes downloaded, here's what I'm gonna do: I was originally gonna teach you guys how to play 7th Edition, but... from what I played of 8th Edition just before I left, I find that 8th is a little more streamlined than its predecessor. Though, the addition of movement distances is a little annoying in regards to some models... So, who wants to play me first?"

Jaune was quick to step up and offer. "Sounds like a fun game, I'm in!'

"Ooh, ooh, can I play after Jaune!?" Nora cried as she zipped over to Jacob's side and hugged his arm.

With a chuckle, Jacob replied, "Sure Nora, how about you play the victor with whoever you want to play—"

"Awesome! I wanna use the big guy with the hammer and shield!" Nora quickly picked the aforementioned model up and proudly displayed it as if it were her own. When she said the character was bid, she wasn't kidding; the suit he wore clearly was not made for agility in mind. It was large and square-shouldered, a massive grilled piece protecting the mouth of the person inside while massive plates covered the arms and chest. The back was adorned with a red-painted cape that hung below a set of what Pyrrha thought were fans and tubes on the back, and the shields on the shoulders were painted in white and gold. In his right hand was a massive hammer, comparatively akin in size disparity as Nora and Magnhilde were, twin-headed and emblazoned with gold skulls on the sides as he held it out and off to his side as if gesturing with it. In his other hand was what was clearly a massive golden shield, made from a pair of wings and set in the center was a grey twin-headed eagle that seemed to glare menacingly back at Pyrrha. Wherever Jacob was from, the two-headed eagle seemed to be a regular motif.

"Oh, my Terminator Captain?" Jacob asked as he took note of what she was talking about. "Uhm, sure, I guess; he's running around in what the game calls Cataphractii Terminator armor, so you'll get a better armor save and invuln save."

"'Invuln save'," Jaune asked as he studied the model on a motorcycle, "what's that?"

Jacob simply chuckled and said, "All in good time, young grasshopper, let's get the basics down first... Uhm, anyone have a set of 6-sided dice on them?"

And so for another half hour, Jacob gave them the basics of the game; it wasn't unlike some of the Great War strategy games that mainly older folks tended to play, though the science-fiction and fantasy was through the roof to Pyrrha. He and Jaune were up first, with Jaune choosing the grizzled-looking old man with a beret and jacket, a massive glowing pistol in his left hand and a comically-sized gauntlet on his right. Jacob opted to pick a female character in a dark jacket and vest with a peaked cap on her blonde head, in one hand a sword painted with lightning coursing across it as if the weapon were charged with arcane energy and a bulky, blocky pistol in her other hand. A "Tempestor Prime" versus a "Lady Commissar" Jacob had said the matchup was, since he figured that it would "only be fair to pit normal human against normal human". The game rules seemed simple enough, you move your units, then you shoot, and then you attempt to get into melee and duke it out from there.

"Now, in some cases," he had said when first introducing the game's phases, "A unit will have psychic powers, so there's also a Psychic Phase where a character will try to conjure spells and powers."

"Wait," Ren said in confusion, "I thought that this game was more based off of science fiction; there's magic in this game?"

"Sorta," Jacob replied, "kinda, it's a bit tough to explain in a few simple words, but basically there is an entire realm called the Warp where those with greater access to it can, well, 'warp' the fabric of reality to their whim, usually through summoning daemons or smiting your enemies."

Ren and Pyrrha both shared a look of confusion. _Demons?_

As the fighting continued, Jacob rolled to go first and failed to "steal the initiative" from Jaune. By now, everyone had grabbed a chair and was watching the fight with intensity. Jaune's character moved up closer to Jacob's before firing off his first "plasma pistol" shot, the dice rolling heavily in his favor. The shot wounded after Jaune rolled a four, and according to the rules Jacob's model had no armor left, so he would have to take the wound.

"Ah, now you see where that invuln save comes in. Refractor Field: Five-up and the wound is ignored."

"What?" Jaune did a double-take.

Jacob rolled his lone dice. it landed on a two.

"Damn, she takes a wound, down to three."

Jaune beamed brightly. Pyrrha mirrored the action back at him.

Jacob held up a finger and grinned mischievously. "Don't get cocky, Arc. Three wounds are still three wounds. Now comes the charge phase, though I would seriously not recommend it."

"Why's that," Sun asked, "you both packin' some serious melee."

"Two things, Monkey King," Jacob replied as he held up two of his fingers in response, "First is that I will get an Overwatch shot, and second is that he has to roll a 12 on two d-6 dice to get into melee with me."

As Sun visibly mulled over Jacob's new nickname for him, Pyrrha mulled over the situation; Jaune had a 1 in 36 chance of getting into close quarters, and even then that secondary save roll still posed a hurdle. At the same time, Jacob had said that the "power fist" that Jaune's character had was powerful and did variable damage in upwards of 3 points; one good swing could kill Jacob's character outright. But the risk was too high.

"Hah, easy! I'll more than get it!"

Pyrrha felt the urge to squeak in exasperation. "Jaune," she began hesitantly, "I don't think I'd recommend that—"

"—Alrighty then Jaune, let me first get my Overwatch off. Overwatches are basically supposed to be snap-firing, so I'm hitting on a six." Jacob rattled the dice in his hand. "Glory to the first man to die!" he roared in a posh accent as the dice left his hands and careened across the table.

It landed with six dots facing up.

"And it hits!" Jacob laughed as Nora whistled and Jaune balked. "Strength 4 pistol versus your toughness of 3, I wound on threes."

Jacob rolled again; He made a roll of five.

"It wounds but it has no Armor Penetration, you get your regular four-up armor save."

Jaune looked down at his dice with a determined face. "Come on, show me a four!"

Jaune's dice rolled a two.

"And it goes through! Whoo!" Jacob hopped as he and Sun high-fived in response. "You are _also_ down to three wounds, and _now_ you can make your charge."

Jaune looked down and took a deep breath. "Okay, I can do this," he muttered under his breath as he shook the dice in his hands.

Pyrrha felt the dread in her partner. If he failed this, Jacob could get in, shoot again and steal the charge from him in melee. She came up to his right side and squeezed his arm with her hand. "You can do this Jaune," she said to him, "you've got luck on your side."

"...Luck's on my side!" she heard him silently roar as he tossed his dice.

The first one rolled six dots face-up.

While RWBY and Neptune's table was a raucous unto itself, the air around J-JNPR's table was silent as the grave as the second dice landed on a corner and spun like a top.

Pyrrha hugged Jaune's arm with one hand... her other hand suddenly felt warm to the touch.

It was only then that she had noticed that Jaune was holding her other hand in his own. She looked down at it with a surprised double-take.

 _Oh gods,_ she thought as she felt butterflies in her stomach and a heat rising in her face and... _elsewhere._

There was a collective gasp. Pyrrha's attention was drawn back to the table.

The second dice had landed with six dots facing up.

Jacob looked up with a surprised look in his eyes and a smile echoing with astonishment. "To quote a spinoff game," he said as he suppressed an astonished laugh, "Nuffle smiles brightly!"

The two characters were moved into contact, and the fighting began. Jaune's attacks only numbered three, and were only hitting on rolls of four or higher because of the rules of the "power fist".

Two attacks hit, and both wounded on rolls of two or higher. All Jacob had was that roll of five to save. One failed and one survived.

"Okay then, roll to see how many wounds it does."

Jaune rolled a two. Jacob's character was down to a lone wound.

"Now I swing back," Jacob said as he scooped up four dice and rolled them; despite only missing on rolls of one, two dice failed to land a blow. Jaune's character was safe for another round, though Jacob rolled two wounds and succeeded in both, the weapon's armor penetration cancelling his armor save outright.

One wound each. It was all down to the next round of fighting.

"Okay, my turn again," Jacob said. "For future reference, pistols apparently in the new edition of the game can be fired even while in combat."

Pyrrha felt her eyes imitate what Jaune's did, both of their's widening as Jaune whimpered, "Wait, what?"

"Hitting on twos! If you will not serve in combat, then you will serve on the firing line!" The lone dice tumbled out of Jacob's hand before landing on a four.

Pyrrha felt both a bit of fear for Jaune and the exhilaration of the game coursing through her. _This is supposed to be relaxing for his people?_

"Wounding on threes!" The dice rolled again, landing on a five. "No AP, you need a 4 or higher."

Jaune grimaced as he shook the dice, Sun and Nora cheering him on. Pyrrha found herself quietly joining in just as Jaune's dice sailed out of his hand. It tumbled and rolled across the table, bouncing off one of the books before coming to rest at the foot of the commissar.

Six dots beamed brightly up at the gathered lot.

A collective sigh of relief echoed around the group.

The momentary tension was relieved by force when RWBY's table erupted into laughter and indignant cries. Pyrrha turned her attention towards the game table and found that clearly Yang had made some kind of joke at Ruby's expense judging by how the younger Huntress' dejected hunch.

"I do _not_ sleep with Crescent Rose!" she squeaked indignantly.

"Oh hardly," Weiss replied, "On the contrary you always cover it in a blanket like it's a baby!"

"But she is my baby in a way," Ruby whined as she hugged her arms close to her body.

Pyrrha suppressed a chuckle. There were times that Ruby Rose felt like a promising team leader that was more than capable of keeping her team together on a whim. And then there were those times where she was reminded that she was the youngest of them all, two years Pyrrha's junior and by extension everyone else's junior.

Part of that naivete she gave off egged Pyrrha to wonder what spurred her into the Huntsmen line of work in the first place.

A cry of surprise snapped her attention back to her table; Jacob had rolled three ones on his dice, leaving him with only one attack to wound on. A collective cringe echoed its way around the table, Pyrrha even wincing at the poor luck.

"Oh well, this is the clincher," Jacob said as he picked up the lone dice. "Wounding on fours; Glory to the first man to die!"

The dice left his hand and tumbled fervently before it cruelly landed on a two.

"Emperor, why has thou forsaken me!?" Jacob cried in mock anguish as he clearly was fighting the urge to laugh at his own misfortune. With a sigh he turned and said, "Your turn to attack in melee, Jaune."

"Alright, I got this in the bag!" Jaune eagerly swiped up his three dice and quickly tossed them. Two hit their mark, the third being equivalent to a wild swing.

Twos to wound, both wounded. Jacob's secondary save was in effect.

Jacob looked nervously down at the two dice in his hands. "Whoo boy," he said with a huff, "When it comes down to the last wound, the tension is insane." He brought the hand with his dice up to mouth, the sound a deep exhale escaping his throat. "My faith is my shield!"

He lobbed the two dice across the arena, the two dancing madly across the way. The first on bounced once, twice, thrice, four times and landed on a six.

But the second one bounced across the table, spun like a top after two bounces, before finally coming to a rest.

It was a two.

"And that's the game," Jacob said as he raised both his hands high into the air, "Jaune's Tempestor Prime is the winner!" Jacob put his hand out and Jaune took it in a firm handshake. "Good rolls for your first game," he said with smile, "Though it's a whole lot different once the lone model becomes three dozen or so on a battlefield. Still, good job!"

"Thanks," he replied, "That was actually pretty fun. Can we go again?"

"Actually, I think Nora wanted to have a go at it—"

"And I wanna take a stab at it!" Sun said as he butted into their conversation.

"I think we're all going to want to try it out," Ren said as he picked up the one hooded character and studied it; Beneath the black hood a skull stared down at whatever it was clearly about to attack judging by the massive sword raised high over his head, pointing into the sky as if drawing power.

Pyrrha in turn looked down at the assortment of models and found herself picking up a lady clad in silver, ornate armor and adorned in a dark-brown fur cape, a strange rifle with crossbow arms in her hands and a massive cruciform sword strapped to the side of her mechanical-looking backpack.

Part of her noticed that with the black hair and red highlights on the end of the ponytail that it resembled Ruby somewhat.

"It seems like fun," she said as she looked up at them all, finding a collective smile around the table.

"Great, I go next," Nora said as she lifted the "Terminator" high in the air.

"I call the guy on the bike!" Sun replied.

Pyrrha looked back at the stack of books on their original table.

 _Professor Port's assignment isn't due for a few days anyhow_ , she thought, _Maybe studying can wait an hour or two..._

* * *

"I still can't believe he got that last game! I had Mistral Raider Camp locked down, and lo and behold what are the odds he'd pull out Atlesian Bombardment at just the right moment to stop me!?"

"I don't know Yang, do I look like a mathematician? Regardless, I'm just floored at the fact that Nora failed two, count 'em, _two_ out of four three-up Iron Halo saves!"

"Don't rub it in! Sun just got lucky with that croz... craz, crazy-us—"

"Crozius arcanum, Nora, it's called a crozius arcanum. Or if you'd prefer the "fancy beating stick" as my old acquaintance Wib called it."

"Right, whatever. But that Inquisitor fight with Ren and Pyrrha, oh my God that was _tense_!"

"I'm just glad you were able to modify the rules for my—or rather your—Inquisitor, Jacob."

"Honestly Ren, it wasn't even that tough all things considered; I just converted the old rules for Power Armor and the Daemonsword for 8th edition rules, though I may need to figure out if I balanced them out in comparison. Still, that master-crafted condemnor _hurts_ in this game now, last edition it wasn't worth even half the points it _did_ cost!"

"How about next time around winners go up against winners, losers against losers?"

Jacob stopped and turned around in the hallway, arching his eyebrow at Jaune. "So you, Pyrrha and Sun in a three-for-all? I like it."

"Ooh, _kinky.~"_

A collective blush and shocked cry of "Nora!" echoed down the hallway. Even Ruby cried out with them and blushed furiously, a sight that had Jacob contemplating in concern just how much Ruby knew of that word.

"Kidding, I'm _kidding_ ," she replied with a dismissive wave.

Jacob rolled his eyes as they continued to walk down the corridor back to their dorms. The past four hours had them trying out Warhammer 40k and then watching RWBY finish up their game of Remnant!, and judging by everyone's reaction if they were back home on Earth Jacob would have roped in at least another five people for Games Workshop to drain the bank accounts of. While RWBY—sans Blake, who had left to return to her room to ponder the situation with the White Fang as he recalled—took point now, JNPR hung back to walk with Jacob, surrounding him on all sides with Jaune and Pyrrha walking beside him as they continued to chat about the game.

"And these characters I have with me aren't even the most overpowered ones out there," Jacob said with a laugh as he thought through the list of characters, "if any of my Chaos characters had come with me like my Alpha Legion Sorcerer, Oh _man_ you could see just how dangerous psykers can be on a good day; granted we could always proxy if we ever wanna try out some of the other rules."

"Wait, you're allowed to do that?" Jaune asked.

"Technically yes," Jacob said hesitantly, "but official tournaments made that a no-go."

"Wow, I'm amazed this game hasn't reached outside of your home," Pyrrha said.

Jacob's stomach clenched up a bit as he scrambled for an excuse. "W-well, part of it is the expense to get everything, and part of it is also finding a crowd to get hooked on it. Let's just say that, say for that Cataphractii Captain it costs 30 Lien, not including painting supplies."

Weiss wheeled on them from the back end of RWBY, balking at the price. " _30 Lien_ for one little piece of plastic?"

"Wait till you hear about the paint prices," Jacob muttered to her in exasperation. "We jokingly call it plastic drugs for a very good reason; most people sink at least a few hundred for a decent-sized army. Yours Truly bought himself three armies worth of models for both Imperium and Chaos for about a thousand d— _li_ _en,_ and that's been in my first year alone of playing," he said, nearly stumbling and saying dollar instead.

Nora's eyes widened in absolute horror as she leaned into him and screamed. "A _thousand_ _Lien?!"_

Jacob held up a finger and replied defensively, " _over a year,_ Nora, over the course of a year. If I had gotten it wholesale it would look more like _two_ thousand instead, but my local group tends to drop off bits and pieces at our local store and I've been fortunate enough to capitalize on the stuff they get rid of."

Jaune whistled low and said, " _Nice,_ pinch the pennies wherever you could."

"Oh yeah, but sometimes there would be a new model no one got their hands on yet and I would swallow my pride and but it whole-price," Jacob said as he remembered his first purchase, a $60 pack of Chaos Terminators he eventually painted up as Alpha Legionnaires. "Damn," he muttered, "I miss those guys something fierce."

As they reached their dorms, the rest of Team RWBY quickly entered theirs as yang seethed and grumbled, "Ugh, we never should've let him play!"

Ruby giggled and replied, "You're just mad 'cause the new guy beat you! See, if you just attacked when I told you to..."

Jacob felt a lone chill crawl up his spine like a spider, or a finger tracing a line up his back. That line sounded familiar for some reason, though he was drawing a blank as to what that reason was.

"Stop," he heard Weiss say as the door closed.

 _Oh, right,_ he thought to himself, _this is where they decide to start snooping around at the White Fang situation._

Jacob leaned up against the door, though a hand grabbing his shoulder firmly stopped him.

He turned around and was greeted by Ren. "Didn't your mom ever tell you about listening in on conversations?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Hey, if something's going on with them," Jacob hissed, "I'd like to be in the know, whether they want me to or not. Now shush, I'm trying to listen." He cupped his ear to the door and began listening; it was the exact scene from Volume 2 Episode 2, as far as he was concerned.

"...Ozpin told us not to worry. Between the police and the Huntsmen, I'm sure they can handle it."

"Well I'm not," said Blake angrily, "they don't know the White Fang like I do!"

"Okay, between blowing up nightclubs, stopping thieves, and fighting for freedom," Weiss said, "I'm sure the three of you think that you're all ready to go out and apprehend these ne'er-do-wells!"

"Uh, who?" Ruby said.

"But let me once again be the voice of reason. We're students! We're not ready to handle this sort of situation!"

"Well yeah, but..."

"We're not ready!"

"And we may never be ready! Our enemies aren't just going to sit around and wait for graduation day," Blake shouted in anger. Jacob felt the presence of four other individual join him in listening in. "They're out there, somewhere, planning their next move, and none of us know what it is, but it's coming! Whether we're ready or not!"

A collective glance around from everyone told Jacob that all five of them were thinking the same thing; RWBY is not doing this alone. At least, everyone except Jaune, who was clearly nervous about the idea judging by the grimace on his face.

"Okay," Ruby said as Jacob imagined she was no doubt acting spastic and looking rather manic as she said it, "all in favor of becoming the youngest Huntresses to single-handedly taking down a corrupt organization conspiring against the Kingdom of Vale... say aye."

"Yes! I love it when you're feisty!" Yang boomed.

"Well, I suppose it could be fun," said Weiss.

Jacob decided that maybe sneaking around wouldn't be as good a plan. Before anyone could react, he rapped on the door with a Shave and a Haircut tap and said loudly, "Count me and JNPR in too!"

Beside him, Pyrrha made a pained wince just as RWBY made a collective indignant cry of, "Jacob!" and swung open the door, JNPR jumping back just in time to not topple over as the door opened inwards. Jacob on the other hand did not, and face-planted into the carpet at Blake's feet.

"Jacob Muller, reporting for duty, ladies," he said through a mouthful of carpet.

Behind him, He heard Pyrrha mutter in embarrassment, "Sorry..."

"But yeah," Nora said behind him, "what he said: sounds fun, we're in!"

"None of you said aye..." Jacob righted himself as Ruby said that and shot them all a thumbs up.

Blake returned the gesture with a simple smile. "Alright then, we're in this together."

And that that moment, Jacob decided to get into the moment with Ruby.

"Let's hatch a plan!" She said.

"Let's hatch a plan!" He jinxed. Both looked at one another and smiled.

"Jinx!"

"Jinx—Damnit, I owe you a soda," Jacob winced.

At that exact moment however, a metaphorical lightbulb went off in Ruby's head: "I left my board game at the library!"

"We're doomed," Weiss deadpanned as she held her head in exasperation.

The lightbulb went off in Jacob's mind just as Ruby zoomed past him and JNPR and into the hallway.

 _This is is the part where Ruby first meets_ —

There was a sound like shoes skidding on rug and the sound of two bodies meeting each other.

Jacob felt the blood rush from his face. He and the two teams scampered out into the hallway. "Sorry," Ruby said as she scratched her head, having landed on her butt. "Are you okay?"

Jacob's heart fought a hard-pressed decision to either stop in terror or thunder in rage.

Just like in canon, Ruby had run headlong into a certain ebony-skinned green-ette with a hallucinatory Semblance.

"I'm fine," Emerald Sustrai said as she offered a hand up for Ruby, "Just watch where you're going." Just like in the show proper, she had forsaken her more risque... "chestless vest" was the closest thing Jacob could describe it as, the underlying olive green crop top and the white pants with leather chaps for what was supposed to be the Haven Academy uniform. Astride her, also clad in a Haven Academy uniform, was Mercury Black, the kickboxing bastard that blocked Ruby from getting to Penny during _P.V.P, and_ tricked Yang into attacking himself during a later fight.

Both were part of Cinder's cadre... and that meant...

"Oh, right, sorry," Ruby apologized as she was helped to her feet, "Um, I'm Ruby! Are you new?"

Emerald stepped aside, and the world took on a tint of blood red.

Even while clad in the uniform of Haven Academy she oozed the word _femme fatale._ The admittedly-sultry strut she sported, the long flowing hair the color of midnight— _just like her soulless heart_ —that came down to her chest, the overconfidence in her every movement...

The amber eyes that hid the fires of the Fall Maiden beneath them.

She was at fault for everything that would happen.

She led to Penny's death.

She let the White Fang loose on Vale.

She killed Pyrrha.

Cinder Fall.

"Visiting from Haven, actually," Cinder corrected.

Had Jacob been a man of lesser composure, he would have jumped her right then and there and strangled her to death. Attractive as she was now that he saw her in the flesh, Jacob felt the bloodlust in his veins as a little part of his mind began chanting, "Abhor the witch, destroy the witch," like a deranged Black Templar.

Jacob's attention was suddenly drawn to the fact that Pyrrha was standing next to him. The anger and the urge to stand in front of her and defend her grew like a fire set to gasoline.

For a few seconds, the hallway was quiet as the grave as Ruby and Cinder stared one another down. Jacob's eyes bored into Cinder, drinking in every ounce of his new opponent, but if she was aware of his stare, she wasn't showing it.

"Ooh," Ruby realized as the silence ended, "You're here for the festival! But exchange students have their own dormitory."

"I guess we just got turned around," Mercury said.

"Not a problem," Jacob said before Ruby could begin, conjuring a facsimile of a friendly tone, "We all go through that sometimes. Your building is just east of here, next dormitory down." he walked up beside Ruby and locked eyes with Cinder with the intensity of an eagle, the two of them squaring off in a battle of wills.

Cinder's eyes danced like a candle flame as she scoured him with her eyes. "Well well," she began, "You must be the Lone Wolf that everyone's been talking about."

Jacob felt his composure waver as a startled and horrified chill ran up his back. Cinder was aware of his presence. He only barely managed to recover his cool and replied, "I hope they've only been saying good things about me."

"Very good things, I can assure you that," she replied as her she deceptively raised her hand daintily as if it were made of glass. "I'm Cinder Fall, and you are...?"

It was just like Weiss as the wharf a few weeks back, only this time it was a far more deadly game they were playing at the moment; As much as he wanted to fight her here and now, he knew that she could easily take on Jacob and all 8 members of RWBY and JNPR without breaking a sweat. None of them knew, but he and Cinder both knew it.

He took her hand, squeezing it gently and pressed it to his lips, the unimaginably soft skin conflicting with the blackened heart that beat beneath. The faint smell of cherries reached his nose, but in his mind there was the smell of a rotten soul hiding beneath it.

"Jacob Muller," he said, hiding his desire to be venomous behind a smirk, "at your service, Ms. Fall."

Behind her back, Jacob spotted Emerald making a disdained face at him, as if he were intruding into her territory.

"A Huntsman _and_ a gentleman," she said with a laugh, "I see Ozpin trains his students well." The emphasis she put on Ozpin's name didn't escape Jacob's notice; some horrified part of him was screaming that she was far more in the loop than she had any right to be.

"Well," he said, tightening his grip ever so slightly, "I am quite a savage fighter in the ring, I can assure you that," In a sense his way of warning the False Maiden:

 _Don't mistake me for a pushover; If you fuck with me, I **will** kill you... somehow._

Cinder laughed with a false mirth he could hear as plainly in his mind as any thought he could conjure. "Really? I hope we can see that in the ring sometime," she said as he let go of her hand. "But if you'll excuse us," she said, "we should be on our way. It was... a pleasure to meet you two."

"Likewise," Ruby said beside him, blissfully unaware of the mounting tension in the air.

And just like that, they began to strut past RWBY and JNPR and down the hall towards the east dorms, Jacob's eyes glued to Cinder as he internally seethed in impotent rage. It certainly didn't help that as Cinder walked away, she was clearly putting some extra swing in her hips in a sultry sway to hypnotize anyone following her.

 _Those who follow behind her hypnotized to her every gesture... just how she likes it,_ he growled mentally.

"Oh, and welcome to Beacon!" Ruby cried out as the trio of troublemakers walked away.

"Wow," Jaune said in a stupor, "she's uh... _something._ "

A long and low whistle left Yang's mouth as she clearly watched Cinder saunter down the hallway. "She's got _femme fatale_ written all over her," Yang said with a chortle.

" _You have no idea,_ " Jacob muttered under his breath as he watched them round the corner to the elevators and disappear into the night.

"I think she's got a thing for you, Jacob," Yang joked. Jacob heard it, but didn't respond.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Theoden of Rohan uttered the one thing Jacob was thinking to himself.

 _So it begins._

* * *

 **AAARGH, This chapter was SOOO LONG and I scrambled to get this out even remotely on time and BLAAAGH... *ded***

 **Anywho, next chapter we return to our 40Kharacters _for sure_ this time and we finally start finding out some truths... because the next episode is _A Minor Hiccup_ and whatnot. And Jacob will get some new intel he isn't particularly prepared for.**

 **Critiques, comments, reviews and all are welcomed, to all those who've joined me on this I thank you for being patient with me as I've scrambled with both this and school. It means a lot to mean and I hope you'll all join me... in the next chapter. Buh-bye~!**


	20. A Major Hiccup

**Okay then, things warming up thus far, but now it's gonna start properly heating up.**

 **Also, to answer TheAthenianSon, if you're talking about the Chaos Marine in Chapter 18... well, crimson armor, symbol of a horned devil head on a book? Inherited his "father's" helmet? Take a wild guess.**

 **Also, a little bit of explanation: While we know Jacob sees the world in the animation styles of the different Volumes and it keeps changing with each one, everyone else sees things in... well, pretty much as detailed as we see our world; just not in the same proportions as we see our world.**

 **I'm just as confused on how to work it as you are reading it.**

 **Anyways, on with the story!**

* * *

 **Chapter 20: A Major Hiccup**

 **"In preparing for battle, I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is invaluable." — Dwight D. Eisenhower**

* * *

 _ **Tick.**_

 _ **Tick.**_

 _ **Tick.**_

 _ **Tick.**_

The tapping of his pencil helped alleviate the rising tension in his head and neck yet at the same time added to it.

He looked down at his watch. 3:55. Five minutes of agony left.

 _Oh God,_ he thought _, I haven't felt like this since high school. I forgot how much watching the clock aches._

He glanced over his left shoulder, some small part of him hoping that she was gone.

He was met with the sight of raven hair, porcelain skin, yellow eyes, heart black as pitch, and a soul as rotten as Nurgle's Garden.

 _Nope,_ he lamented, _she's still there._

The amusing anecdotes of Professor Port continued to prattle on with not a trace of stopping in sight. Jacob had begun listening to it earlier but ultimately failed in an attempt to blot out his awareness that his enemy was sitting behind him by two levels of the bleachers, flanked by her two lackeys. They feigned interest and attentiveness, but Jacob had significant doubt that they were interested in how Port managed to single-handedly take on an Alpha Beowolf with no weapons in sight.

 _...God's wounds, why does she have to be here?_ He felt like she was glaring daggers into his skull, even if her gaze was fixed ahead in faux-attention as she continued her infiltration.

For the past three days he had attempted to reduce any and all contact with Cinder and her team, an attempt at distancing himself so that he would stop seeing red. Every ounce of him knew quite well that this was beyond absurd, that he shouldn't be seething at her mere sight, and if the facade he created broke it could tip her off that he knows something. It was more than precarious, this was like tap-dancing on tightrope over a pit of flaming alligators.

His gaze turned down to his sketchbook, close enough in appearance from a distance to look like a notebook to suit his needs. As little as he had drawn as of late, it still felt good to put pencil to paper and let the imagination run rampant. At the moment, it was probably the only thing keeping him sane.

His current project was another scene much like the one of RWBY and JNPR he had drawn before he arrived, only this time it was far more 40K. While the first one he admitted had mostly been vague lines and squiggles placed in patterns to replicate an army of Men, an army of Grimm, RWBY and JNPR, here however it was two roughly-sketched warriors duking it out. The first figure **—** the character on the left swinging a massive hammer from his right side to crush his target's ribcage—was a Space Wolf from Ragnar Blackmane's Great Company. The iconic badge of the Space Wolves adorned his pauldron as organically as it could, though Jacob had desperately needed a reference photo to even try and draw this scene. With a few adjustments here and there the Thunder Hammer Space Marine went from being Captain Titus to a Wolf Guard for Ragnar. The figure opposite of him was immediately distinguishable to any 40k player through the belt of skulls Jacob had hastily drawn on him and the tall, blocky, bladed horns that adorned his helmet; a Khorne Berserker, most obviously a member of the World Eaters. Jumping high with his chainaxe raised overhead to deliver a cleaving blow, Jacob had drawn him 3 months prior to his arrival on Remnant with help from a reference photo of a Spartan from _300_ and a friend of his who was a big World Eaters collector letting him borrow his squad of Berserkers for an afternoon. The Wolf was the new addition, Jacob's memory of a screenshot from the _Space Marine_ game serving him quite well. No background yet, but Jacob was thinking some kind of no man's land; everywhere in 40k was its own kind of no man's land in some way or another.

He flipped the pages and arrived at the scribbly drawing of JNPR and RWBY; sadly the shading attempts had finally smudged, leaving almost everything dingy and less defined. Funnily enough, everything around the drawing of Ruby and Jaune had been smudged, yet by some odd happenstance they remained crisp and clean.

 _That's not funny God,_ he mentally huffed, imagining that God was poking fun at his insane task all in the name of good humor and not of spite.

With a careless slam he closed the sketchbook and began to pack up his camo backpack, at the same time taking his tall blue mug and downing a swig of his morning Earl Grey, now brewed for 7 hours; it was bitter as sin but it was nice on the throat to have some liquid after 2 hours of Port's class.

Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw a pair of blood-red eyes bore into him like a drill. Emerald was watching him like a hawk; she knew something was up about him.

Jacob couldn't tell whether the chill down his back was from the bitter brew or her malicious stare.

 **RRING! RRING!**

Jacob did a double take as the bells rang and registered before he looked down at his Timex. 4:00 on the dot. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs as the fact that five minutes passed in what felt like the blink of an eye.

He was quick to pick up his backpack and sling it up on his shoulders, turning away from his enemies and walking towards RWBY and JNPR. He arrived at RWBY just as Jaune's head made impact with the desk in exasperation; he had tried to flirt with Weiss again.

 _Idiot can't see the girl pining for him right beside him,_ Jacob sighed, _Pyrrha wants him and yet he's as dense as a neutron star to her advances._

"Come on Jaune," he said as he walked passed the boy as he caught up with RWBY, "No sense crying over spilled milk."

"One day noodlehead," Yang said as she ruffled his hair, "one day."

After a minute all nine of them were wandering down the hallway back towards the dormitories, Jacob trying to sneak a peak behind him every so often to watch out for Cinder and Company.

"What's up with you, Jacob?"

Blake's question pulled him from his paranoid vigil and led him to shake his head. "Sorry, what was that, Blake?"

Beside him, Yang strutted along as she conjured a smug grin. "I think he's looking for Ms. Tall, Pale and Foxy. Am I right, Lover-Boy?"

Jacob whipped around and stared at her with no lack of confusion in his features. On the one hand, to the unknowing it did seem as though these last 3 days had seen him watching Ms. Fall and her teammates like a hawk—to an admittedly stalker-like degree no less—but on the other hand did she seriously not see the worry that was probably manifesting in his eyes? Did she seriously not see the concern that he felt practically ebbed and flowed off of him?

"Don't give me that look," she said with a sly smile and a wink, "I won't lie, she's certainly a high bar to set for yourself, but she's got _good times_ written all over her."

Jacob didn't know whether to be insulted or amused; _Him_ wooing and potentially bedding _Cinder Fall?_ Under better and less life-on-the-line-type circumstances he'd hesitantly consider what was an obvious challenge from Yang.

Of course, there was the fact that Cinder had a heart as rotten as Mortarion's ass in the Death Star's sewage chute that made at least initial attraction to her absolutely null and void.

"I don't know about that Yang," Jacob said, "but while she does make _sexy_ look good, there's something off about her."

"You're just imagining things," Nora said as she pranced up beside his left, Ren casually waking up to his right.

 _If only that were so,_ Jacob thought to himself as his gaze met the floor.

Without warning though, Jacob felt Ren's hand come up to his shoulder. "I'm certain she's a nice enough person," Ren said reassuringly, "The two of you made a good first impression when we first saw them."

Jacob's left eyebrow rose independent of its brother. "You really think that," Jacob asked dryly, "Because I sure didn't feel like it was a good first impression." _More like a Mexican Standoff of schemers really._

"You're too hard on yourself," Yang replied as she came closer, hugging up beside Ren. "Maybe ask her out on a date sometime over the semester, or—ooh, better yet, ask her out to the Dance! It's only four weeks away, you've got plenty of time."

 _The Dance... wait a minute,_ Jacob's mind ran the metaphorical numbers over Yang's suggestion. _That's it! I ask her to the Dance, I get more intel on her and tie her up in the dance and stop her from uploading the Queen Virus! It's perfect!_

 _But wait... shit, canon! If she doesn't upload the virus, what happens then? Does she use something else? Upload at another time? And if so, who's in danger from that angle? Too many damn variables..._

"You may be onto something Yang," he said cautiously as he muddled about with the idea, "but I need to think about it."

"Well don't think too long about it," Pyrrha said as she joined the four of them beside Nora, "Someone else might ask her first!"

He glanced over to her and was met with her signature smile, kind and endearing. He couldn't help but return it. "Yeah, yeah I'll think about it," he said with a sigh.

After another minute, RWBY had taken a huge lead on their five compatriots, leaving Jacob with JNPR to wander back to the dorms.

"I think they're starting up their investigation into Torchwick," Jacob said after a minute of silence to let JNPR talk amongst themselves.

"Wait, what? But I thought they were gonna let us help out," Nora moaned as she hunched over and walked along like Igor, a disappointed look across her face.

"Smaller numbers allow for an easier _covert_ investigation," Ren replied.

"Maybe," Jacob replied in a mutter, "but it's never a bad idea to have some auxiliary support. Screw it, I'm gonna jump in as well."

All 4 members of JNPR looked at him with varying degrees of confusion, concern, excitement and doubt, all in the order of the team's name. "You're seriously gonna try to help them out?"

"I would be remiss to not; whatever Roman and the White Fang are up to is more or less a threat to the people of Vale," he said knowing full-well what was planned was not just by them but by Cinder as well, "and even if the rest of Beacon will do nothing about it, we need boots on the ground to know what's going on."

Pyrrha stopped in the hallway, a concerned look on her face. "Jacob," she began, "I don't think it would be good for you to start going after the White Fang."

Jacob halted in his tracks, looking back at her in confusion. "Why wouldn't I?"

She only replied with a concerned look at first, her gaze drifting southward to the ground. "What do you expect to happen if they find you instead? They know you now because of..."

Some part of his mind had a good idea where she was going with the idea. "Because of what?"

"...Because of what happened at the docks."

Jacob's spine shivered involuntarily. Bright, sky-blue eyes screamed across his memory like a speeding car on a highway, leaving a ghost of the dead in its wake. His hands felt warm for no reason whatsoever and yet he felt clammy sweat creep up on him. Jacob shook his head like a child shakes a ragdoll as he commanded the ghost to be gone, a sense of lightheadedness crashing over him as he clutched his head afterwards.

"Whoa, hey! Are you alright?"

Jaune's question pulled him out from his shaken stupor. "O-uh yeah," Jacob fibbed as he dismissively waved, "yeah, I'm good." His mouth felt dry and he could feel his heart in his fingers as the pulse attempted to level out from its minor increase. His legs felt wobbly and his stomach felt tumultuous.

"It happened again, didn't it?" Ren's hand braced hard on Jacob's shoulder.

Jacob looked back at Ren, meeting a worried face. "I think so," Jacob said, "but that was the first time it's ever been like this."

" _But_ it wasn't as bad as the last time," Nora noted as she came up and put an unusually soft and reassuring hand on Jacob's shoulder, "Last time we had to drag you from the cafeteria it was so bad!"

Jacob felt embarrassed about that ordeal from two weeks ago; eight teenage kids leading a grown-ass 20-year-old outside the cafeteria after he suffers a panic attack? Not a very dignified image in any sense, even if most of said kids were only 3 years his junior.

 _"Thanks_ for that Nora," Jacob said with a huff as he rolled his eyes at her, "I needed that."

After a second of processing what he was saying, Nora gained a quick sheepish grin and blushed with a mutter of, "Oops, sorry."

With a sigh and another shake of his head Jacob continued. "Regardless of what happened... _there_ , regardless of the Fang, RWBY's gonna need every man they can get. I won't ask of you guys to get wrapped up in this unless you're up to it."

A firm but gentle hand squeezed his shoulder. "Jacob," Pyrrha began, "If they want our help, they will ask for it; we won't do them any good by barging in and trying to help where we're not needed."

"Yes," Ren chimed in, "and besides that you are as of _now_ in no condition to help them."

Jacob wanted to protest, but the racing pulse still thundering in his fingers agreed with Ren.

Jacob sighed. _Maybe I have been getting too wrapped up in this. Maybe an evening to fully relax would be a good idea, otherwise I'll run myself right into the ground._ "Alright," he said after a few minutes, "You make a compelling point. If they want us they'll let us know... I hope."

Pyrrha smiled comfortingly at him. "Alright," she said, "now how about we go and get dinner?"

"Ooh yeah," Nora said as she bounced up and down, "I heard that steak fingers were on the menu tonight~!" With that Nora bounced off towards the mess hall with Ren and Jaune and Pyrrha in close pursuit, leaving Jacob in the dust.

A huff left through Jacob's nose as he felt most of the tension leave his body. _As much as I hate it, she's right; RWBY were able to beat Roman in canon tonight, they can beat him here..._

He shook his head and began to catch up to JNPR. Perhaps after dinner he should take the night off as it were: perhaps read _The Carrion Throne_ and finish that drawing.

* * *

The sound of guns being loaded and swords being sheathed ran about in the dormitory of Team RWBY. Spare Dust rounds had been allocated to everyone—Yang obviously took the majority of Fire Dust much to Ruby's disappointment—and all of them had swapped into alternate outfits for the night so as to keep their identities somewhat safe. This was it, the Big Night, the night they would start looking for the White Fang and Torchwick. Or, at least once it became night; it was now 4:30 and the sun was still fairly high in the sky, though fortunately for them it wouldn't stay that way for long.

Ruby couldn't wait to get started. Ruby had swapped out her black combat dress for a grey long-sleeve and black pinafore combo; she would not however give up her cape under any circumstance.

"I thought that class would _never_ end," Blake said with a huff. She had traded her frilly vest and white blouse for a deep, v-neck zip-up and skin-tight black pants with some kind of half-skirt covering up her behind. Ruby didn't honestly have a clue why she kept her shirt tucked up so her belly was showing, but honestly that was the least of Ruby Rose's concerns.

"Alright, guys, today's the day! The investigation _begins!"_ Without looking Ruby hopped down to the ground below from her bunk, narrowly missing landing on Weiss' knees.

"I'm glad to see we're taking this so seriously," Weiss snarked as she adjusted her bright white jacket and dusted off her thigh-high white boots.

"Hey, we've got a plan," Yang said, now sporting her old favorite cream-colored vest and low-cut black shirt from her days at Signal; now however she was sporting something called a "shrug" over top of the vest and shirt that seemed to be the complete negative of a sleeveless crop-top, as well as a miniskirt and some thigh-high black stockings with her boots. "That's... moderately serious."

Ruby—being their team leader—assumed everyone's attention. "Everyone remember their roles?"

Weiss was first: "You and I will head to the CCT and check the Schnee records for any other Dust robberies or inconsistencies. Seeing as I'm in the family, it shouldn't be a problem."

Blake next: "The White Fang has regular faction meetings to hand out orders and recruit new members. If I can get in, I can hopefully find out what they're planning."

And then there was Yang: "I have an old friend on the shady side of town that typically knows everything going on in Vale. Getting information out of him shouldn't be too hard..."

Ruby nodded in approval; the plan was all set and everyone was in some way or another raring to go. "Great! We'll meet up tonight near Yang's place to go over what we found. Let's do this!"

"Yeah!"

Ruby did a double take: none of her teammates sounded like a guy. She turned towards the source, only to meet the grey-blue eyes of an upside down Sun Wukong, hanging on to the tree outside their dorm by his tail.

"Sun," Blake cried in surprise as all four of them took a few steps back, "What are you doing here!?"

"How did you get up there?" Yang's question was valid to even Ruby.

"Ah, it's easy," Sun replied with a dismissive wave, "I do it all the time."

Weiss did a double-take. "You do what?!"

"I climb trees all the time!"

Weiss' scowl was enough to drop a Beowolf to its knees in fear.

Sun ignored the searing scowl and flipped himself into their dorm. "So, are we finally getting back at that Torchwick guy?"

Blake stepped forwards and said, "We are going to investigate the situation... as a team."

Now it was Ruby's turn to interject. "Sorry, Sun. We don't want to get friends involved if we don't have to."

"Psh! That's dumb," Sun replied with another wave, "we should always get friends involved! That's why I brought Neptune!"

Sure enough, RWBY leaned out of the window frame and looked over to find Neptune Vasilias clinging to the edge of the wall by his back, cool as a cucumber while he stood 4 stories above the ground.

"'Sup?"

Ruby was rather confused. "How did you even get up here?"

"I have my ways," he replied with a shrug. "Seriously, though, can I come in? We're like, really high up right now."

After a minute or two of dragging Neptune inside, Ruby had quickly reshuffled the strategy. The rest of team RWBY and the two boys were now standing around her in a circle, awaiting her orders as they prepared to begin the investigation.

 _Awaiting my orders,_ Ruby thought to herself with a giggle, _like I'm some kind of general or something. I think I kinda love being in the leader role!_

"Alright, I'll go with Weiss," she began as she pushed Neptune to where he needed to be; oddly enough, he seemed to have gone rigid around Weiss, all but for a wink that even she had noticed. "Sun, you can go with Blake. And Neptune, you can go with Yang since she doesn't have a partner. Everyone good?"

"Actually, Ruby," Weiss piped up, "why don't you go with Yang? After all, she is your sister."

Ruby turned around and looked at her partner in confusion as soon as sh was done pushing Neptune to Yang. "But, Weiss, who would go with you, then?"

"Well... I guess Neptune could come with me."

Ruby was now starting to get confused? _Is Weiss trying to ditch me for Neptune?_

After a second, Ruby dismissed both the idea and the request with a hearty laugh and a "nah!" She turned and grabbed Weiss by the scruff of her jacket and began pulling her along absentmindedly, not even fully registering Weiss' protests.

"But! But!"

Just as they rounded the doorframe, Ruby almost bumped nose-to-mouth with someone standing 5'5" in a jean jacket over his Beacon uniform.

"But what, Snow Queen?" Jacob asked through a bite of food as he leaned against the door to his room. His camo backpack was slung over one arm, a half-eaten chicken tender in his right hand and his Scroll up to the lock on his dorm in his left.

Ruby felt her stomach as she stumbled and came to a stop. "Oh uh, nothing Jacob," she said with a weak smile and a laugh. "We were just on our way—"

"—to investigate Roman and the White Fang, right?" His raised eyebrow and cocked grin sent a defeated groan through Ruby. "Ruby, pulling the wool over my eyes is gonna take a lot to do. But, it's entirely your mission," he said as he held up his hands and shrugged, "I won't get involved if you don't want to get friends involved."

Ruby and Weiss shared a look; even Ruby felt that Jacob was trying to manipulate them, but at the same time there was a sense of a legitimate tire in his voice. But Ruby thought for a second on Sun's words back in their dorm.

"Wait," she began as Jacob opened the door to his room, "Do you wanna help us?"

He stopped in the doorframe. He turned and looked at her with another cocked eyebrow, only this time it was in both surprise and hesitation. "You sure? I mean, you've already got your teams by the look of things."

"Well yeah, I mean we do but there's nothing stopping us from having some backup, right? An aux... oxil... axi—"

"Auxiliary, right? an _auxilia_ unit." Jacob looked aside and seemed to smirk. "I have always been kind of the backup in games and school projects in the past. Give me a minute to get get stuff unpacked and my gear loaded up, don't hesitate to go on ahead though."

Ruby felt a faint smile across her lips. "Alrighty then, you can come with me and Weiss, we're gonna make some calls at the CCT Tower to her company to see if any Dust shipments have been stolen since... you know."

The smirk disappeared from Jacob as he seemed to start on a thousand-yard stare. Within a second though he shook his head and the glaze over his eyes had cleared. "Right," he said with a resurgent smile, "I'll catch up with you guys."

And with that, he disappeared behind his dorm's door. Ruby and Weiss stood there for a but a quick moment before taking off at a brisk walk for the CCT Tower.

"He's still having flashbacks," Weiss said in an uncharacteristic somberness, "isn't he?"

Ruby didn't reply initially.

"He's been putting on a face around us," Weiss continued, "but even if he doesn't know it conciously, it still bothers him."

"I don't think it will ever stop bothering him," Ruby replied, lost in her own thought.

A white cape danced its way through her memories.

 _I should know..._

Ten minutes passed and Ruby and Weiss arrived at the foot of the CCT with Jacob at their side. It hadn't taken him long to swap into his casual clothes, though he had oddly enough decided to leave his jacket back in his dorm, leaving him only in his tan cargo pants and his grey t-shirt; "Closest to an incognito outfit I could muster" he had told them when he had caught up with them.

Above them the CCT Tower loomed overhead, its long shadow casting itself eastwards towards Mountain Glenn as the trio basked in the late afternoon sun. Even though she had spent now three months in its towering gaze, Ruby still was in awe of the massive building.

"Woooow! I forget how big the Transmit tower looks up close!"

"You should see the one in Atlas," Weiss replied.

"Guh, even just looking at it from down here I'm getting vertigo," Jacob muttered beside Ruby, "and that's considering I've been up in Ozpin's office a couple of times now."

Ruby turned to her partner, her childlike curiosity getting the better of her. "The Atlas tower was the first one, right?"

"Correct," Weiss said with a confident smirk. "Atlas developed the Cross Continental Transmit System to allow the four kingdoms to communicate with one another. It was their gift to the world after the Great War."

Ruby couldn't help by want to poke fun at her partner's tone, the pride oozing from every syllable. "Oooh, look at me! My name's Weiss! I know facts! I'm rich!"

"Don't be a pest! Besides, the only reason we're here is because you like the tower so much! We could have just as easily made a call from the library!"

"I know, but it's so coool! Ooh, I'm going to take a picture!"

Beside Ruby as she fumbled for her phone, she heard Jacob say, "Doesn't the CCT have some kinda circuit system; if one tower goes out the whole system goes _das kaput?_ "

"Precisely," Weiss said, "So as to make certain that no nation could go without a voice. If one nation couldn't have a voice, no one could."

"...God Almighty is that a _beyond_ stupid flaw if you ask me," Jacob said with a hint of malice in his voice.

Both Ruby and Weiss turned and looked at him. "Excuse me?"

"Anyone with a half-decent sense of pragmatism and common sense knows that setting up a critical part of a civilization with no redundancies or contingencies is a recipe for disaster. A couple of spare towers and some additional firewalls would definitely secure it."

"But all four towers are encased by the Huntsman Academies, they're completely protected!"

Ruby noticed that Jacob was now staring up at the tower intently. "You'd be amazed what people with an agenda and nothing to lose are capable of doing," he said gravely, a scowl across his face.

Ruby couldn't help but feel unnerved.

Still fumbling for her Scroll she finally managed to find it, only for her clumsy fingers to send the device flying. It bounced away from her on the pavement once, twice like a plastic brick before hitting someone's foot with a clatter.

"Oh," the owner of the foot said as she reached down and picked up the Scroll, "You dropped this."

Ruby's eyes met with curly ginger hair and minty green eyes. "Penny?! Where have you been?"

Jacob came up beside her, his arms crossed as he said, "We haven't seen you since that night at the docks. Where've you been?"

"S-Sorry," Penny said as if guilty, her eyes shifting around nervously, "I think you're confused." A small hiccup popped out from her mouth, and the hiccup itself launched Ruby's Scroll back into her hands. "Uh... I've got to go!" She turned and began to walk away at a brisk pace.

Ruby was absolutely confused. Why was Penny acting like that?

"What was that about?" Weiss said with a huff.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," Jacob said as he started walking after her. "I'll meet up with you guys in a minute, go and make the call!"

Ruby was torn between Weiss and Penny, and now Jacob was breaking off to chase after Penny.

 _Well, Weiss doesn't need me around to still make the call..._

She began to chase after Penny. "You go make your call! We'll meet up with you later!"

"Wait!" She heard Weiss say, but she couldn't wait. She needed answers to questions that only now were surfacing.

By the time she had caught up with Jacob, he hand already block Penny's path on the stairs to the Tower and had started asking her questions. "Hey, slow down Penny. What's wrong?"

"Where have you been," Ruby said as she came up to Penny's side, "It's been weeks!"

"There seems to be a... misunderstanding," she said mechanically. Another hiccup. She pushed past Jacob and continued onwards into town.

Jacob and Ruby glanced at one another, Ruby wearing a look of concern while Jacob looked simply confused. Ruby began following her again, sliding down the rail of the stairs to catch up with her as Jacob walked after them.

"Penny... Is everything okay?"

No response. Now Ruby was getting really worried and really confused.

"Penny," she cried out as she reached out and grabbed Penny's arm, "please stop!"

Penny halted in her tracks.

"Look," Ruby began, "I don't know what's wrong, but you have to listen to me! Those guys we fought at the docks, we think they're up to something big, something bad! I need you to tell me what happened to you that night! Please... As a friend."

Penny looked uncomfortable as Ruby finished, her brow furrowing in worry. Jacob came up to the opposite side, the two both looking concerned to variant degrees. With a massive sigh, Penny seemed to give in, glancing aside with a worried look on her face. She came up to Ruby and leaned in close, and breathed something in Ruby's ear that made the hairs on her head want to stand on end:

"It isn't safe to talk here."

* * *

"Hello. Welcome to the CCT. How may I help you?"

"I'd like to go to the communications room, please," Weiss replied to the AI of the CCT's elevator. While there were technically three elevators in Beacon Tower, two belonged to the CCT system and were installed with their AI. The center elevator sandwiched between the two however was also able to

"Absolutely. Could you please place your Scroll on the terminal to verify your identity?"

Weiss complied without a second thought, the device scanning her Scroll's ID. "Perfect! Thank you, Miss Schnee."

Weiss breathed a sigh of relief, letting her stress dissipate into nothingness. It was nice to get away from Ruby for even a little bit as it were, just be alone with her thoughts for a bit. Maybe she could call Winter on the side and see how her big sister was doing— _no, no! Focus, Weiss_ , she mentally chided to herself.

The elevator ended its ascent and arrived in the CCT room, a darkly-colored but brightly-lit room filled with several dozen terminals. Decorative patterns shaped like circuitry glowed a dull green color along the dark grey walls and up into the ceiling, where glowing, bright blue symbols of the Four Kingdoms loomed overhead.

She approached the empty receptionist's desk and was greeted by the hologram of the CCT's AI flickering to life. "Welcome to the Beacon Cross Continental Transmit center," it recited, "How may I help you?"

"I need to make a call to Schnee Company World Headquarters in Atlas."

"Absolutely," the AI responded, "If you could head over to Terminal 3, I'll patch you through."

With a courteous thanks, Weiss walked over to the terminal, passing by several other students on the way. It was sparsely populated this evening by comparison to most days, thought that was the least of Weiss' concerns.

She sat down at the terminal, taking a deep and unhappy breath as she braced for what might come.

 _Please don't patch me through to Dad, please don't patch me through to Dad..._

The face of a short-haired brunette—Sue, the front receptionist from the main offices in Atlas—appeared on the monitor with the Schnee snowflake rotating behind her.

"Thank you for calling the Atlas- Oh! Miss Schnee! Good afternoon! Would you like me to patch you through to your father? I think your sister Winter might be here as well."

Weiss felt a smidgen more of the tension leave her; Sue was always a sweet woman, always helpful when Weiss needed something from the offices.

"No, thank you, Sue," she replied as courteous as ever. "I was actually wondering if you could find some files for me. I've compiled a short list." Weiss produced her Scroll and plugged it into the input. Sue began to receive the list and understandably seemed hesitant.

"I see. If you don't mind... what may I ask is this for?"

"School project," Weiss fibbed.

"Um... There are some sensitive documents on this list, ma'am."

"Well then," Weiss replied, "I'll be sure to treat them with care."

It wasn't enough to calm Sue, who was now somewhat on edge. "Right... Very well. The data is being transferred to your Scroll now."

"Wonderful! That will be all, then."

"Are you sure you wouldn't like me to patch you through to your father before you go?"

Weiss felt her smile waver. _Maybe I should just call in and tell him I'm fine_ — _NO, no, Stop it Weiss, you don't need him._

"Yes, Sue, I'm sure," she answered as her faux smile returned.

Weiss had known Sue long enough that she could tell when the fib wasn't working as well as it should. "Well, then... Have a nice day Weiss-I mean, Ms. Schnee!"

Sue's face disappeared as the call was completed, and with it Weiss' act. A sad face stared back at her from the screen of the terminal.

But she couldn't help but notice the sound of boots coming up from behind her. "Well, well, a Schnee so far from home?"

That voice struck her familiarly. Her gaze was drawn to the reflection she saw in the terminal monitor.

Only one person she knew spoke with that accent.

Only one person wore that navy blue long-coat, and those god-awful sideburns...

A massive smile erupted across her face, a genuine one this time.

 _Finally, a friendly face from home._

* * *

 _Here we go,_ Jacob thought to himself as he walked down the street behind Ruby, her red cape fluttering in her trail as she continued down the street.

 _And now Pinocchio shows his_ strings, he thought as he saw the eponymous allegory walking side-by-side with Ruby. _Or_ her _strings rather._

A half-hour had passed since Jacob and Ruby had been asked by Penny to meet her outside the Harbor and Hearth, and currently the trio were now wandering down the street in discussion. As much as he hated it out of pure common courtesy the trio were straddled shoulder-to-shoulder along the street, Penny sandwiched in between the two of them as Ruby and her talked while Jacob walked along absorbing information as he skirted the edge of the street and the road. Fortunately the Wharf District seemed to be generally light of traffic, though now several cars had since passed them by; maybe Volume 1 hadn't been able to render that much?

Late afternoon was interesting to see in the animation of Volume 2. While he did see the shadows of just like back in Volume 1, now they were more defined in their shapes but still were very faint, almost as if they were an afterthought from God... or Monty rather in this world's case.

As he was walking along behind Ruby he was fidgeting with Titan's hammer, the safety on and his seven replenished magazines tucked in his back pocket. He still didn't have a proper holster for it so it currently rested in his deeper front pockets. His thumb traced the outline of the hammer subconsciously, mostly out of unfortunate boredom since Ruby was laser-focused on getting Penny to tell her everything. Cadia was still massive by comparison, so it hung out on his belt for all the world to see, his laid-back walk and the oversized gun at his side making feel like he was trying for that God-awful street thug look.

"...Do you know anything about those men?"

"I'm sorry Ruby, but I don't know anything about those men."

Jacob shook his head as he left his subconscious stupor. Now the conversation was picking up where it was in canon, and he might be able to help cushion the surprise, as well as give Penny someone else to trust.

 _And maybe,_ some small part of Jacob's mind thought, _someone for me to trust with secrets._

"Well, what happened to you that night," Ruby continued, "We were all together, and then you just disappeared! Were you kidnapped?"

"Oh, no! Nothing like that!" Penny replied. Jacob couldn't help but roll his eyes at Ruby's assumption.

"Then where _did_ you go?"

"I've never been to another kingdom before. My father asked me not to venture out too far, but... You have to understand, my father loves me _very_ much; he just worries a lot."

That line was admittedly confusing to Jacob; when she said "Father" was she talking about General Ironwood? Or was it that older man seen in passing during _PvP_? Was he the Gepetto to her Pinocchio?

"Believe me, I know the feeling," Ruby said in reference to Taiyang, the two girls sharing a smile.

Jacob chuckled. "Sounds like my mother," he muttered to himself. The two girls looked back at him then glanced back at one another before they both giggled. He simply rolled his eyes in response.

"But why not let us know you were okay?" Ruby continued.

Penny seemed to hesitate. "I... was asked not to talk to you. Or Weiss. Or Blake. Or Yang. Anybody, really."

"Wow," Jacob said with a hit of implied sarcasm, "talk about your state secrets."

Penny's nervous glance back at him didn't go unnoticed.

 **"** Was your dad that upset?"

"No, it wasn't my father—"

"The AK-130 has been a standard security model of Remnant for several years," came a grainy voice from around the corner of the net building, "and they have done a fine job. Wouldn't you agree? Wouldn't you agree?"

The trio rounded the corner and arrived in the Wharf's plaza, where a massive gathering of people had assembled for what Jacob remembered was Ironwood introducing the new Atlesian robots that would be the Vytal Festival's security detail. In the center of the presentation, a fully 3-dimensional hologram of the General stood proud and beaming at his accomplishments, at Atlas' accomplishments. 6 automatons stood at attention in front of a pair of steel structures that reminded Jacob of the robot carriers in _I, Robot._ Inside the structures just like said carriers, the newest bots were awaiting their first public appearance, though instead it would be at worst another 2 months until they start terrorizing the city.

 _If only he actually had a fucking firewall system,_ Jacob lamented mentally as he remembered the robots turning on the population once Roman got his hands on the controls.

"But... the kingdom of Atlas is a kingdom of innovation, and 'fine'... Well, that's just not good enough, is it? Presenting... the Atlesian Knight-200!"

The structures behind the automatons opened their steel gates to reveal the Knights, whom were bulkier and yet seemed more organic in their forms—by comparison to the previous breed. The 200s kicked over their predecessors and took on a menacing one-foot-forward action pose.

"Smarter, sleeker, and admittedly, a little less scary," Ironwood said as the robots proved his point with campy flexes, "These models will become active later this year, but they won't be alone! Now, the Atlesian Military has always supported the idea of removing men from the dangers of the battlefield. However, there are still many situations that will undoubtedly require... a human touch."

"Ruby..?"

Jacob turned and was greeted by the sight of Penny being somewhat nervous. _She's worried about getting spotted._

"So, our kingdom's greatest minds," Holo-Ironwood continued, "in cooperation with the Schnee Dust Company, are proud to introduce..."

 _Wait for it,_ Jacob thought to himself, _wait for it..._

"The Atlesian Paladin!"

Ironwood's holographic image was replaced with the hologram of a robotic white behemoth that reminded Jacob of what he imagined a prototype for Tau Battlesuits would look like; hinged piston legs, large guns for hands, and a menacing rectangular head, standing at least twice as tall as the Knights below it.

 **"** _Now, we couldn't have him here for you today, but these mechanized battle suits will be seen defending the borders of our kingdom within the year!"_

Ruby was dumbstruck by the sight of the war machine's hologram, letting out a faint "whoa" as she stared on.

"Ruby? Maybe we should go somewhere else." Penny began to back away, a nervous look on her face.

He traced a line along the path of her gaze. Sure enough, the two Atlesian soldiers were beginning to make their way towards them, one clearly calling for backup as they made their way over.

Jacob didn't need to be clairvoyant to know Penny had charged across the street at a dead sprint. "Penny," he cried out as he rounded on the spot and watched her sprint into the alleyway across the street, "where are you going? Come back!"

With that, he tugged on Ruby's cape to snap her out of her stupor. Granted it turned out he didn't need to as his cries had snapped her out of the daze. Without warning she took off like a rocket, unintentionally yanking Jacob along for the ride.

The two were neck and neck as they careened across the street and down the alleyway after Penny. Behind them Jacob could hear the footfalls of the soldiers' boots, the sound being more than a little nerve-wracking. They crossed another busy street, the honking cars telling Jacob to not even look back behind him.

Running from the authorities... that was a new one on him.

The duo continued to sprint after Penny, the automaton girl keeping a fair distance ahead. Ruby was quick-witted however and had noticed a tall platform covered in wooden crates. With a quick cleave from Crescent Rose, the platform came to the ground in a massive heap.

"Good catch," Jacob said as he began to find his breathing was getting more difficult. Ruby was beginning to pull ahead of him, his lungs starting to burn at a noticeable strength. _Looks like the family asthma... strikes again,_ he thought to himself as Ruby continued to pull ahead. Even then, he knew his bad genes weren't all to blame; despite the last 4 months giving him an opportunity to get stronger, faster et cetera, he still was not even remotely built for endurance. Sure, at a dead sprint he could hold a solid speed for a bit, but anything longer than a minute of constant sprinting and he found that he slowed down immensely. afterwards. A hundred-yard dash he could do relatively easy, but a cross-country marathon? Forget it. Even the battle at the docks hadn't really tuckered him out too much, and yet now he was straining to keep up with Ruby; Adrenaline during the fight perhaps?

Fortunately, Ruby was already a step ahead. They had turned down an incredibly long alleyway with bare walls and no roadblocks; a perfect place to put her Speed Semblance to use.

Without a second thought, she leapt against a wall and began to wall-run towards Penny, seemingly picking up even more speed than before. With a burst of speed she launched towards Penny, grabbing her by the middle and stopping in mid-air as she readjusted her course to travel down another long alleyway to the side. "This way," Ruby yelled before taking off in a flash of red rose petals.

"Wait, wait, hold up Ruby!" Jacob's cries went unanswered as Ruby rocketed down the alleyway at highway speeds. "Shit," he muttered to himself as he wheezed and turned down the alleyway, the strain on his own body rivalling the stuff he remembered that she was feeling. His lungs burned and his legs felt like fire and pain as he found his stride to be getting slower and slower.

Down the street however he saw Ruby continue to careen forwards, but that soon changed. He saw her body go momentarily limp, as if she had browned out in the middle of her flight just long enough that she and Penny went tumbling to the ground, Ruby herself being flung out into the middle of the street like a ragdoll.

Jacob felt his memory scream back to him.

 _The truck._

 **HONK-HONK!**

Jacob found his second wind and went thundering down the street like a Berserker from _XCOM_ , Desperately trying to get to Ruby.

But Penny made it there first.

In a fraction of a second Penny pushed Ruby out of the street just as the truck was coming up on her, and extended her hands out to stop the truck. The split second the truck made impact with Penny, under normal circumstances Jacob would have expected a bloody smear on the roadway where Penny Polendina had once been.

Instead, the truck reared up from behind as if it had struck a mountain head on. Penny didn't budge much more than a foot or two backwards, like she had become a monolith in the middle of the street. Even though the ground beneath her cracked and splintered like glass, she refused to yield. The truck slammed its back wheels back to the pavement below, the poor Shopkeep inside visibly shaking.

Jacob caught up to them, his body screaming at him to stop and rest. By now a crowd was starting to form around the accident.

Across the street, Ruby was looking hesitant and more than a little shaken. "Penny..?"

Ruby's mutter of fear fell on deaf ears as Penny checked up on the Shopkeep. "Are you okay?"

After getting a nod of confirmation that he was okay, Penny backed away only to meet Ruby's frightened expression. By now the bystanders were murmuring to each other in an attempt to understand what just happened. Penny began to look around wildly as if under attack, the fear in her eyes more than telling that panic was starting to set in;

She had been unwittingly caught. And now Ruby and he were going to get the truth out of her.

Without warning, Penny took off again, knocking Ruby out of her stupor as her friend tried to get away again.

Despite his lungs and legs protesting, Jacob was hot on Penny's heels. "Come on," he yelled as he passed Ruby, "Come on!"

With no regards to whether or not the two soldiers were following them anymore, Jacob followed close behind Penny, the girl coming to a stop in a squared off area of alleyway.

"Penny," Jacob attempted to cry out as he came to a stop, only to sound pathetically out-of-shape—which he sorta was—as he wheezed while hunched over, "Hold up... for a minute... Oh God why isn't my cardio work getting any better..."

Ruby was next, Jacob righting himself as he let Ruby speak. "Penny! Please! What is going on?! Why are you running? How did you do that?!"

Penny's eyes darted around the clearing. "I-I can't! Everything's fine!" a hiccup slipped out from her mouth. "I-I don't want to talk about it!" Another admittedly cute hiccup. Her tell, just like Pinocchio's nose.

"Penny, if you can just tell me what's wrong, I can help you!"

Penny recoiled away as Ruby tried to come up and comfort her, her hands balled up tightly. "No! No, no! You wouldn't understand..."

Penny," Jacob said with a huff as he continued to let his breath level out, "You can trust us, don't worry!"

After a second of even more hesitation Penny turned around and looked them both in the eye. "You're my friends, right? You promise you're my friends?!"

"I promise," Ruby replied as softly as a summer breeze.

"I swear it on The Lord's Good Book," Jacob said as held his right hand to his heart and his left up as high as he could while he was still catching his breath.

Penny looked down at her hands and slowly unfolded them. Beneath the skin, a metal endoskeleton peak out, the steel glimmering in the evening sun.

"Guys... I'm not a _real_ girl."

Besides the last vestiges of his breathing, the spot became deathly silent.

Ruby Rose was deathly silent. The shock on her face said far more that the lone word that came out of her mouth:

"Oh."

Jacob on the other hand was already aware of this and simply replied with a feigned look surprise and a simple reply. "Huh... neat."

Ruby seemed to stumble backwards as if she were struck. "Penny, I-I don't understand..."

"Most girls are born," Penny replied, "but I was made. I'm the world's first synthetic person capable of generating an Aura." At that her face took a downtrodden look, as if she was struck with realization.

"I'm not real..."

That tugged too hard on Jacob's heartstrings. "Penny," he said softly, "That couldn't be further from the truth; of course you're real."

Penny looked back at him in surprise only to snap her head forward as Ruby tenderly clasped her own hands around the robot girl's hands. "You think just because you've got nuts and bolts instead of squishy guts makes you any less real than me? Less real than Jacob?"

Penny seemed to be absolutely flabbergasted; she was probably expecting reactions of horror and denial at the prospect of fully sentient AI. "I don't... um... You're... taking this _extraordinarily_ well," she said with incredulity as she leaned in closer to Ruby. "Both of you, in truth."

Jacob snorted at that sentiment; being already aware of the truth had jaded him to the surprise, whereas when he first saw it he had been forced to perform a double-take of cartoonish proportions. "Considering what my life's been for the last 4 months," Jacob said with a laugh, "nothing can surprise me. I'll bet Lien on it."

"You're not like those things we saw back there," Ruby said with a calm voice and a tender smile as she tapped Penny in the center of her chest. "You've got a heart, and a soul; I can feel it!"

The fear and confusion left Penny's face. A massive warm smile erupted on her face as she suddenly grabbed Ruby and hugged her in a death-grip. "Ooohh... oh Ruby, You're the best friend anyone could have!"

"I can see why your father would want to protect such a delicate flower," Ruby groaned as the air was probably squeezed out her lungs.

Jacob couldn't help but laugh as he watched the two share the moment. "As delicate as an AT-AT," he jokingly mused to himself.

"Oh, he's very sweet," Penny said excitedly as she let go of the no-doubt savior of the world. "My father's the one that built me! I'm sure you would love him!" She began to move closer to Jacob, putting him on high alert.

"Wow," Ruby said with a giggle, "He built you all by himself?"

"Well, almost! He had some help from Mr. Ironwood."

"The General?! Wait... Is that why those soldiers were after you?"

Penny nodded and smiled. "They like to protect me too!"

Ruby scoffed. "They don't think you can protect yourself?"

"They're not sure if I'm ready yet," Penny said somberly. "One day, it will be my job to save the world, but I still have a lot left to learn. That's why my father let me come to the Vytal Festival. I want to see what it's like in the rest of the world, and test myself in the Tournament."

Now it was Jacob's turn to scoff. "Save the world? That's an ungodly tall order to put on the shoulders of one girl, automaton or not."

Ruby's gaze darted back and forth between Jacob and Penny. "Guys, what are you talking about? Save the world from what? We're in a time of peace!"

Penny looked confused by that statement. "That's not what Mr. Ironwood said—"

"Check down here!"

One of the soldiers. "Oh shit," Jacob hissed as he backed up against a dumpster behind Ruby, crouching low behind it.

Without warning, Penny grabbed Ruby by the shoulders and effortlessly hoisted her over her head. "You have to hide," she said as she marched over to the dumpster, Ruby squirming to get loose.

"Penny, wait! What are you doing," Ruby asked as she struggled to break free of the robot-girl's iron grip. "You don't have to go with them! I can help you!"

Penny ignored Ruby and effortlessly chucked Ruby into the dumpster. Jacob leaned out to watch the two of them, the edge of the dumpster obscuring his view. "It's okay, Ruby" she said calmly They're not bad people; I just don't want to get you in trouble." Penny's expression turned serious. "Just promise me you won't tell anyone else my secret. Okay?"

"I promise," Jacob heard Ruby say from within the dumpster.

Penny turned and looked at Jacob. Before she could say anything, he simply gave her a serious look and a single nod. She smiled back.

But the nod meant far more than just keeping her secret.

 _I promise it Penny,_ he said in his mind, _more than just your secret will be safe. Count on it._

Jacob tucked himself back into the corner between the dumpster and the wall just as the sound of running boots was upon them.

"Sal-u-tations, officers!" He heard Penny say.

"Why were you running," a soldier asked, "And what happened to those other two?"

"What other two? I've been by myself all day!" Another cute hiccup. Jacob stifled the urge to chuckle.

"You shouldn't cause such a scene."

"Are you okay?" Another soldier.

Jacob slid as silently as he could towards the edge, just far enough out that he could see what was going on.

One of the Atlesian soldiers was less than two feet away from him, his back turned to Jacob and the dumpster. Penny was showing them the open cuts in her skin that revealed her endoskeleton. "Just as scratch," she admitted nonchalantly.

 _Iesu Christo,_ Jacob hissed mentally as he popped back behind and hunkered back into the corner.

"Penny, your father isn't going to be happy about this," the first soldier said harshly.

"Please, just come with us," the second said in a defeated tone.

"Yes, sir!"

There was a sound of multiple footfalls heading back down the alleyway they had come from. Jacob let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in.

The squeak of a rat sounded off from inside the dumpster. Ruby replied in kind with a terrified eek as she leaped out of the dumpster and darted a few feet away. She began frantically brushing herself free of garbage, all the while muttering, "Ew, ew, ew, rats, ew..."

Jacob pulled himself up from his hiding spot and said, "Well, that was closer than I preferred. You okay, Ruby?"

"Yeah, I'm alright," she said in a disgusted tone, "I just kinda wish Penny hadn't tossed me in the dumpster like that."

"Fair enough," Jacob replied, "I'm just trying to wrap my head around it all; not from the perspective of the fact that she is... well, She's a robot, but rather why Ironwood would want an artificial Huntress in the form of a little girl." That last part was only a half-lie; Jacob had for a long time honestly wondered what was the purpose to make Penny look human.

"While I'm honestly kinda grappling with the idea myself," Ruby said hesitantly as the duo left the alleyway and returned to the streets, their eyes peeled for Penny and her escorts, "Penny asked us to keep it secret. You'll keep it secret, right?"

"Like I told her," Jacob defended, "I swear it on The Good Book. Only unless she says I can tell someone will I tell someone."

Without warning, another voice rang out from behind them. One that was smooth and jovial and frankly somewhat Jamaican. "Tell someone what, Mr. Muller?"

Both whipped around on the spot. About 20 feet behind them, Vulkan He'Stan was walking their way. He wore a genuine smile of mirth and a mischievous look in his eye. He was dressed casually, a a green sweater and blue jeans as his outfit. Jacob couldn't help but notice the Salamanders' chapter badge embroidered on the front of the sweater.

Ruby let out a big happy gasp. "Vulkan!" Before Jacob could even realized what was going on, she went rocketing towards the weaponsmith, glomping him in a full-body hug that seemed to not even stumble him. "Aah, it's so good to see you," she squeaked merrily, Vulkan's laughter melding with the squeaks.

Jacob felt his eyebrow rise high on his face. "Wait, wait," Jacob said as he pointed a confused index and middle finger at them, "you two know know each other?"

"Yeah," Ruby replied, "didn't I tell you? Vulkan was the one to first teach me how to build a weapon."

Jacob thought back and tried to remember her saying that. "Oh yeah," he finally realized after a few seconds, "the day I got Cadia you mentioned that, right, right. My bad."

"And how is my favorite Rose doing," Vulkan asked with a chuckle, "keeping out of trouble, or getting into trouble?"

"Oh, no trouble here, Vulkan," she replied, a hint of nervousness to her voice.

"Really? Then what brings you two so far into town from Beacon on a school evening, eh?" Vulkan was wearing a sly grin and a raised brow of his own.

Ruby struggled with an answer, a lot of uhms and ahs leaving her mouth as she let the weaponsmith loose of her hug.

"Uh, well, we were just meeting a friend for a bit," Jacob finally said to cover Ruby's tracks, "but she needed to be on her way just a few minutes ago."

"Ah, I see," Vulkan said understandingly. "Then I am in good company; I was just on my way to meet up with my old team from my Huntsman days. Almost everyone is in town for the Vytal Festival and I had suggested that we should all get together for a proper reunion!"

"That's great to hear," Ruby said as Jacob processed that information. _Vulkan was a Huntsman? He's still in contact with his team? And on that note, who the hell is his team?_

"Well, in any case," Ruby continued, "but you're right, we should probably head back to Beacon. My team and I were looking into some things and we wanted to meet back up where Yang was gonna go. It's out in the Industrial District."

"Really? Perhaps meeting at Beacon would be the better idea," Vulkan suggested, "the Industrial District is no place for kids." After a few seconds, a thoughtful look spread across Vulkan's visage, the uncanny resemblance to the 40k Primarch giving Jacob the jeebies. "Tell you what," Vulkan began, "We're meeting at a place in the Commercial District that's not far from the Industrial District. How about I escort you there and then you can contact Yang to let her know where you are?"

Jacob and Ruby shared a glance that both said the same thing: _Is this gonna compromise us?_

But it was Jacob who took a second to think over it fully; tonight was the events of the episode _Paint the Town...,_ and being out of place for it could spell trouble if Roman got away in that Atlesian Paladin he swiped. And considering the potential for Vulkan to come along during that fight, would getting Vulkan into the mix start breaking canon? Jacob couldn't afford major breaks to the canonical timeline too soon, or otherwise he'd lose control and insight into the situation.

 _I fucking hate the butterfly effect,_ Jacob lamented mentally as he recalled the reason he thought this way; one tiny change can ripple outwards like a drop of water plopping into a lake.

"I don't see a problem with that if you don't, Jacob," said Ruby.

Jacob grimaced and cursed his indecision in a string of mental swears that a sailor would laugh at. "...Sure," he finally lied through his teeth, "No reason not to, honestly."

Vulkan laughed. "Excellent! Come, come, we have little time to waste."

So the unlikely trio began their walk to edge of the Commercial District, the night beginning to settle into the sky. While Ruby and Vulkan caught up on what'd been happening with one another, Jacob hung back and watched the two in passing. They talked about studies and training and family and work and all that good stuff as they traveled along, Jacob along the way starting to feel the hint of... something. That feeling one gets when nostalgia creeps in and gives you the ghost of a warm hug that you got from someone you cared a lot for.

Homesickness, he deduced it to be, some new breed of homesickness he had never felt before. He wondered how much his parents missed him, it at all; for all he knew some doppelganger had assumed his form and all remained right with the real world. Maybe there wasn't some doppelganger and his family was having to learn to live without him.

Jacob slowed a little as the realization came to him; he wouldn't be there to help his little brother when he need Jacob. He wouldn't be there to see him graduate, to find his first girlfriend, to help him in college, to live life...

And his parents; how much did the miss him? Were they hurting? Had they been strong enough to move on? Were they thriving now?

Too many questions, not a single answer to it. The ache he had felt when he first came to Remnant was coming back in a torrent of worry and doubt.

The situation he was in however yanked him back to the now and the certain. _Now is not the time, Jacob,_ he chided himself with a shake of his head, _The time to mourn what was has passed. Focus on the now and prep up... Or you'll be on repeat for Pyrrha and Penny._

Vulkan and Ruby had gotten ahead by a good ten feet by now and were still deep in their conversation when they rounded the corner onto a parallel street. Cars had been zooming by them regularly now as the nightlife was beginning to pick up, and the streets had gone from barren of people to now what Jacob would have considered normal for a downtown area.

Jacob heard Ruby cry out and fall back onto her butt from behind the corner.

"There you are, you dolt! Where have you been!?"

 _Ah, Weiss found_ us _it seems,_ he thought to himself as he rounded the corner Sure enough, Ruby had bumped headlong into Weiss, whom was now standing over Ruby with her Scroll in hand and an accusatory look on her face.

"Sorry, Weiss," Ruby said as she rubbed the back of her head, "Penny wanted to talk with us and—"

"Ugh, you should have at least called to let me know where you were," Weiss said angrily. "Part of me was worried something had happened!"

About that time, Jacob noticed someone standing beside her. How he missed such an imposing man—even taller than Jaune at around 6'5", strong jawline, solid frame, dark brown hair, sideburns—was beyond him. "So," the man began, "You must be the team leader Ms. Schnee told me so much about." He offered her a small but kind smile and a hand up. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss...?"

"Uh, Rose, I'm Ruby Rose, sir." She took his hand and was pulled back to her feet.

"...Rose? You're Summer's girl?"

Ruby looked surprised. "You knew my mother?"

"Knew her? I was the class two years ahead of them with her and the rest of Team STRQ."

"Well, well, well," Vulkan began with a chuckle, "Sorry to interrupt, but I was beginning to wonder if you were going to actually get to Vale, old friend."

The man did a double take. "Oh, Vulkan! Sorry old friend, I didn't even see you there; how is beyond even me." The two laughed heartily, as if an inside joke had been told.

Jacob's stomach did a leap as something came to mind. Something about this guy seemed vaguely familiar.

"Oh, I didn't know that you two were acquaintances," Weiss said curiously.

"Heh, Vulkan and I go a ways back, back before we even went to Beacon. I was the Lone Wolf of '44, best buds with STRQ and VLAT before I graduated. Good times, good times. Hey, how is the rest of the team? Gabriel arrive?"

"He wouldn't miss the Vytal Festival for the world," Vulkan replied.

 _Gabriel..._

The name and the implication started to upset his stomach.

"And Titus? Did he and Mira...?"

"No spoilers."

 _Titus... Mira?_

Now the roiling waves in Jacob's stomach were getting worse. A warrior clad in blue and gold flashed in his memory, cleaving an Ork in half and beating a Daemon Prince's skull into oblivion with his bare hands. With it the image of a Guardswoman, the only sane one by all accounts in a very mad situation.

"Oh, Jacob, there you are!"

Weiss' comment snapped him out of his stupor, but did nothing to alleviate his stomach. "Oh, uhm, sorry about that, I kind felt to be the odd man out. I didn't want to interrupt or anything."

"Well Weiss," the man said, "shouldn't you introduce me to your teammate and... other teammate?"

"Friend," Jacob clarified, "I'm actually a Lone Wolf myself." He offered a handshake to the man, a pit of familiarity tying itself into a Celtic knot. "Jacob Muller's the name."

"Ah," the man replied with a nod as he returned the handshake. His grip was strong but nothing compared to the vice grip of General Ironwood's hand. "So, you're the one Vulkan has been talking so much about. The pleasure's all mine Mr. Muller."

For a second, Jacob felt the tension alleviate as the air of friendliness grew stronger.

But the air careened to the ground as the puzzle pieces finally fit together.

"Jacob, Ruby, I'd like to meet my sister Winter and I's mentor in swordsmanship."

The new names that he had learned over the course of these last four months came rushing back to him at whip-cracking speed, each one breaking down the denial he was fighting with like a hammer breaking a stone.

Vulkan He'Stan.

Gabriel Angelos.

Malcador.

The Inquisition.

Titus.

Mira.

And the last name shattered it all like Cadia under a Blackstone Fortress, leaving Jacob wanting to pass out and wake up from this surreal dream.

"Professor Ciaphas Cain of Atlas Academy."

* * *

 **DAH-DAH-DAAH! Ciaphas Cain is here, now Jacob's not the only Chainsword practitioner in town!**

 **Apologies for the lack of chapters the last few weeks; between Final Exams coming soon and keeping up with Volume 5** **—as well as working on a huge painting commission that'll put some solid change in my bank account—It's been an interesting debacle trying to work on this.**

 **Also, so it turns out magic is quite real in Remnant as of Volume 5. Great, now how am I gonna work some of the members of The Eightfold Path like ++[REDACTED]++ and ++[REDACTED]++?**

 **Next chapter, Jacob, RWBY and VLAT take on Roman in a 1-v-11 smackdown, Jacob comes to terms with the fact that his favorite hobby has bled into his favorite anime world, and somebody learns the truth about him... but who?**

 **Review, follow, favorite if you wish, but thank you all for joining me on this rollercoaster and I will see you all in the next chapter... buh-bye~!**


	21. Paint the Town Khorne Red!

**Took me long enough to put this out, just in time for Chris-[REDACTED]-Nondescript Winter Holiday!**

 **Now comes the action, and the shit hitting the fan!**

* * *

 **Chapter 21: Paint the Town... Khorne Red!**

 _"I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day."—Vincent Van Gogh_

* * *

The evening sky was beginning to dim, though once again no true dynamic shadows could be seen thanks to the effect the world still had—Jacob began to honestly wonder if he'd ever see realistic lighting again—in Poser. The street lamps had only just lit up, but their lights were dim and hardly lighting up the way while the sun's light still illuminated the path in a maroon light.

But the light was the least of Jacob's concerns.

No, it was the fact that he was now walking alongside one half of Team RWBY, _and_ two people similar to 40k characters.

His mind was running on all cylinders as he desperately tried to bring some sense back to the situation. When it was just Vulkan he was able to write it off as a one-time fluke. When he saw the effigy of Malcador when he was inducted into The Inquisition he felt his stomach leap a little in abject horror.

Now he was walking astride a man with the name of the greatest Commissar to ever be put in Warhammer 40k, not counting the awesome Sebastian Yarrick of course.

Jacob glanced nervously at—God, he could even really think about it— _Professor_ Ciaphas Cain, who was currently in the middle of a discussion with Vulkan of something they had done in the past together; something about a pack of Beowolves attacking a minor CCT Tower in Southern Sanus or something like that. The five members of their company of merry misfits were strolling down the sidewalk towards Vulkan and... _Cain's_ destination, the two men taking point, Ruby and Weiss taking up the flank of the group, and Jacob sandwiched in between them. He hugged his arms closer to his torso than normal, wanting to retreat into a ball of confusion and just wait out the night as he tried to untangle the maddening mess of a day that had already formed.

Ruby and he now were the only two—rather than Ruby be the only one _—_ privy to Penny's secret. That was something he was anticipating to earn once he came along with Ruby.

But now he was on the way to meet with Vulkan's team, whom by all account sounded like nice people while at the same time sounded like they may also bear the names of characters from Warhammer 40k.

"This is like the punchline of a very bad fanfiction," Jacob muttered.

"What was that, Mr. Muller?" Commissar—no, _Professor_ Cain said as he glanced back with a kind smile.

"Oh, uh, nothing, Sir." Jacob was sweating artillery shells as he hunched forward, the agitation and discomfort making him want to rub a tag or twiddle his thumbs or _do something_ to quell his desire to fidget.

The Atlesian professor laughed. "Somehow, I really doubt that," he said cheerfully. He laughed again, this time joined by Vulkan with his own quick and hearty laugh.

"So, Ruby," Weiss began from behind and to the left of him, "when were you going to tell me you were on a first-name basis with the best weaponsmith in Vale? Friend of the family, I presume?"

Jacob glanced over his shoulder as Ruby replied, "Oh, uh, yeah, Vulkan and his team were classmates with my parents and their team. Even after their team broke apart Vulkan still kept in touch with us; he's the reason I was able to make Crescent Rose in the first place!"

Jacob blinked at that. "Wait," he began, "I thought you built and trained with Crescent Rose under your uncle Qrow."

"Oh, well Uncle Qrow gave me the blueprints for his," Ruby began, "but Vulkan showed me how to forge a weapon in the first place."

"Yes, yes," Vulkan replied from up front, "I remember it like it was only yesterday; the first thing she ever made was a crooked broadsword when she was only 8 years old; it was so big that the first time she took it off the anvil she immediately dropped it!" He broke out in a fit of laughter, Professor Cain joining in as well. The image of a little 8-year-old Ruby essentially trying to emulate Cloud from Final Fantasy forced a big smile out of Jacob, only for the smile to become full-fledged laughter as Ruby protested and turned a bright red right as Jacob turned his head around to look at her.

"I mean, it _was_ pretty heavy," she muttered under her breath. "Wait," she began, "how did you know about me training under my uncle?"

The smile faded like breath-fog on a cold window as it sunk in. _Shit,_ he cursed mentally, _she hasn't told anyone in the group about Qrow!_

"Oh, come now, Ms. Rose," the Commissar lookalike interrupted, "Your friend seems the smart type. I'd imagine that he was quick to put two and two together if he's familiar with your family. God knows Ozpin could never stop talking about them..." Listening to him, Jacob only now noticed the distinct but faint British accent he was carrying in every syllable of his somewhat husky voice that seemed to echo the tones of Liam Neeson, albeit perhaps an overall note higher in pitch.

"Yeah, yeah," Jacob quickly grabbed the lead the professor offered him, "Ozpin mentioned your uncle in passing a couple of times and I figured since Mr. Branwen reportedly also uses a scythe... well, they say 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree' for a reason."

Ruby didn't respond for a second before she gave an acceptant huff. "Hey," she then began with a surprised tone, "when were _you_ going to tell me you were friends with a Professor from Atlas?!"

Weiss replied with a scoff and said, "I wasn't, I had no need or reason to tell you that! Besides, Professor Cain is—was, technically—my instructor in fencing just as he was my sister's instructor."

Professor Cain hummed in thought. "Speaking of which," he said, "have you heard anything from your sister as of late?"

Silence reigned for a few seconds. "Uh... no," she finally admitted.

Jacob looked forwards at the professor, a noticeable downturn in his posture seeming to present itself. Meanwhile, his head was performing all of the circus acrobatics to justify this all; this was beyond non-canonical, and it was putting him on edge. Things seemed to have the image of canonical adherence on the surface, but there was something beginning to reveal itself from underneath.

Suddenly, the professor cleared his throat. "So, do we know who else is attending tonight Vulkan?"

Vulkan hummed in confusion before realizing what had been said. "Oh, the whole of my team is here tonight; Titus, Mira and Gabriel as I mentioned; Logan's also coming tonight, and I received a call from our black-clad friend from out Vacuo-way."

"Any word from anyone else?"

Vulkan shook his head in denial. Meanwhile, Jacob swallowed a lump in his throat; another name, _Logan_ , was added to the list. Jacob's stride faltered and slowed, putting him right between Ruby and Weiss, who were watching the adults with curiosity.

"Who are they talking about?" Ruby asked.

"Sounds like some of their colleagues," Weiss replied. " I knew that Professor Cain and General Ironwood were on good terms, but he only spoke of a few others in passing, hardly footnotes. Mr. He'Stan was mentioned in passing a few times too, but Professor Cain mostly stayed to himself with his wife."

Jacob absorbed every bit of information thrown within hearing range by Weiss, trying to crunch it as fast as he could. But now the info being sent his way was also having to take a backseat to the other info sent from this Ciaphas Cain imposter—really that's what he had to be, an imposter! —and the backlog of processing was starting to become physically agonizing. A low-boil headache was building throughout the whole his skull; a mild thrumming along his temples, an ache along the muscles in the back, pressure from behind his eyes. For the first time in two years, Jacob was working on a migraine.

 _How delightful._

They continued their walk through the streets, Jacob practically watching his Scroll in preparation for the moment when Blake and Sun would make the call when Roman started chasing them in the stolen Paladin. For now, however, he was in Vulkan's company with the girls and at least he could be somewhat pleasant.

For the rest of the walk there was mostly small-talk between everyone, mainly Vulkan and Cain of course as the younger trio sat back and listened. A few questions were asked from Ruby to Cain and back; How was Taiyang, what was it like being a professor at Atlas, so on and so forth. As much as Jacob wanted to pay attention, he was busy with one ear to the accursed Scroll at all times—metaphorically of course.

Before long, another half-hour had come and gone and they were almost to their destination. By now Jacob's feet were beginning to ache after walking and running around Vale for the better half of two hours or so with little time to rest. Around them the clean and quaint chic of the Commercial District had given way to a far colder and more ominous appearance. Even in the limited lighting of Poser there was a tinge of malice to everything in the area, a sense or wear and tear permeating as well; Jacob felt as though at any given moment a mugger or a drugged-up hobo would appear out of an alleyway and hit them up. _Reminds me of Downtown back home,_ he thought to himself with a huff. _Some things never change._

"Ah, here we are," Vulkan said from about four paces ahead of them.

"Oh, thank God," Ruby said exasperatedly, "my belly's all angry with me for skipping dinner."

"I told you we should have gotten dinner first," Weiss replied with a roll of her eyes.

They rounded the street corner and were greeted with the sight of a large steel-framed restaurant, a one-story building nestled in tightly amongst the concrete apartments and offices at the point where the Industrial, Commercial and Residential Districts met. Across the way from their side of the road there was a medium river, no wider across than the Rio Grande or the Colorado River respectively, though Jacob had a funny feeling that it was far deeper than either of those two. Focusing back of the restaurant, it was clearly something akin to an old Quonset hut from World War 2, albeit somewhat larger than most and trying its damnedest to look inviting and just reaching that aesthetic threshold. The paint coat on the outside was fresh, a muted green with a white and red stripe just along the long side of the building. A simple wood and glass door led to the inside, as warm yellow light filed out from within via the aforementioned door and a few windows along the long sides. Atop the doorway, painted in white in a stenciled font, was obviously name of the place: Grannie's.

"Glad to see the old watering hole is still around," the Cain lookalike said with a chuckle. "I was worried that the thing would eventually collapse."

"Been open since the Great War," Vulkan responded in kind, "I doubt it'll fall anytime soon if it's held on this long."

Off to Jacob's left, Ruby lit up with a spark of recollection. "Oh! How did I not realize we were headed to Grannie's!?"

Jacob and Weiss turned and looked at one another before converging their gazes on Ruby. "Wait," Jacob said in confusion, "you've been here before?"

Ruby turned and replied, "Yeah, Dad took me and Yang by here a couple of times when we came into Vale for an occasion or two! Oooh, I love the cookies here!" Before either of her cohorts could comment, she ran for the front entrance with her usual reckless abandon.

"Of course you do—"

"Of course you do—"

Weiss and Jacob turned and stared at one another for a good long second before the both of them let out a small chuckle. They closed the distance to Ruby at a leisurely walk, Jacob and Weiss now taking point instead of the two 40K facsimiles. Just as Ruby reached the door and opened it, a howling laugh—literally _howling_ —rushed to their ears. While other laughs also reached them, none were as loud as that booming, thunderous laughter.

"Sounds like Logan's telling another of his jokes," Vulkan said, a pleasant smile across his face.

Jacob didn't feel like he could share that sentiment at the moment as his stomach felt like a Six Flags rollercoaster, flipping too much to give him an opportunity to think. Now was not the time to back out; he honestly didn't have that luxury anymore.

 _Time to meet these people._

He reached the door and held it open for Weiss, receiving a smile and "thank you" in response before rounding the doorframe himself.

He found the inside of the restaurant to be simple enough in decorum that it wouldn't have been out of place back on Earth in comparison. A faux-roof of chestnut-wood panels lined the curvature of the roof with a noticeable skylight in the center. The lamps and lights inside the restaurant were small, warm-lighted things with the tacky stained-glass shades you see in bars and mom-and-pop cafés. The floor was a simple pattern of grey tiles splashed with faint spray patterns of black here and there. There were few free-standing tables, mostly it was booths along the walls looking out towards the street and a long counter with about a dozen and a half red and steel bar stools lined up against it. The general feel of the restaurant was... homely, in a positive sense of the phrase. Jacob felt a smile cross his face for a few seconds; five months ago, this place on cursory glance would have fit right in along Central back home, right along with the other myriad stores and shops and restaurants that lined his city's little stretch of Route 66.

"Vulkan! Cain! You're late!"

Jacob's ears caught the tones of a mighty, baritone British voice from across the room. Across the way from the door there was a massive booth in the back corner, filled with—four, five, six he counted—six people sitting around conversing and laughing. Before Jacob could respond or even react, Vulkan had grabbed Jacob by the shoulder along with Weiss, gently but strongly moving them towards that table.

"Sorry about that," Vulkan replied, the faint Jamaican accent contending with the British. "I was caught up in a bit of an interesting situation when I bumped into these kids."

With Weiss and Ruby at his side, Jacob was led to the table by Vulkan's firm grip on his shoulder. He rounded the table to the entry side and found his heart somewhere back by the door.

On the left, "Gabe" sat with a margarita glass on the table in front of him, wearing a surprised look on his face that quickly gave way to humor, still clad in that same outfit he had first seen him in at the docks. Everyone else was new to him though... but not entirely.

Sitting in the center of the lot was a guy nearly if not the same size and build as Vulkan, sporting long dirty-blonde locks, solid beard-stache much like his own and strong features, giving him a Thor-like appearance. He wore a grey and white fur-lined jacket and sported a pendant around his neck that chillingly reminded Jacob of the Wolf Between the Stars, the mark of the First Great Company of the Space Wolves. Jacob would have thought nothing of it were it not for the fact that if you removed the metaphorical anime filter from the world of Remnant he would look pretty damn similar to the Primarch of the Sixth Legion, Leman Russ.

"Oi," the Leman Russ lookalike began—a thick Scottish-Scandinavian accent rolling through his gravelly, bass voice—"This wouldn't happen to be the Muller boy you were talkin' about, would it?"

Vulkan gave him no response but a nod and a smile.

The Russ-lookalike laughed as Jacob noted the other two people at the table. A man and a woman, both brunettes and fair-skinned sat, smiling at the newcomers. The man was leaner than the other two gentlemen at the table but still sported broad shoulders and the features one would expect in a warrior. His comb-over was well-groomed and the blue polo and tan cargo pants he wore gave him a casual but orderly demeanor. The woman sitting beside was clad in a molted green—no, _Castellan Green_ —sweater and khaki pants, her hair was up in a ponytail that cascaded down to the small of her back. Two pairs of chocolate brown eyes stared back at him with intense curioisity. The man seemed to be in his mid to late 30s—maybe early 40s—the woman around the late 20s or early 30s if Jacob had to take a wild guess.

"The pleasure is all ours, Mr. Muller," the man replied, offering his hand to shake. Jacob returned the gesture in earnest, his stomach roiling as the gears clicked in his head.

All the while, the white, upside-down omega of the Ultramarines stared back at him.

"I'm Titus Ultramar," the man said as he let go of the handshake, "and this is my wife, Miranda."

"Just Mira, please. The pleasure's ours," "Mira" replied earnestly, offering and receiving a handshake as well.

Jacob felt the blood leave his face and pool in his feet, though he at least kept the composure to return the handshake. "Believe me," he began shakily, "the pleasure is all mine..."

* * *

Blake's fingers traced the three scratches in the concrete of the wall next to her. She knew this marking well; Hell, she was the one to come up with it in the first place. A mark to represent the "wild animals" that they had been called by some people? What seemed clever once upon a time sickened her now more than ever.

She leaned out from behind the wall and down into the alleyway. Sure enough, a pair of White Fang were standing guard in front of a large steel door into the warehouse. A pair of Faunus—both sporting small horns of some kind of animal _—_ were being admitted in.

She took a deep breath as the situation fully processed in her head. "This is it," she said after a moment.

"You sure?"

She turned and glared at Sun Wukong, the monkey Faunus starting to irk her. For the last 2 or so hours it had been nothing but questions from him; at first it had been charming and well-appreciated that he would be so curious and considerate, but after some time it grated on her nerves.

"Y'know, I'm just gonna take your word for it," he said after a second, holding his hands up in acceptance and surrender.

Blake rolled her eyes and moved to remove her bow for the third time in the last few weeks; At this point in time, she was beginning to think maybe the bow was becoming superfluous considering how many people knew by now and how frequently she was starting to remove it. The two Huntsmen followed the couple's entry, easily gaining access; it wasn't that hard really, the Vale branch wasn't that familiar with her to begin with since she stuck to Adam's vanguard force from Menagerie while she was here. They were handed a pair of the standard issue masks that she had once thought to be so brave but now too soured her stomach.

She could practically remember the conversation with him as if it had only happened days ago...

 _"You see where I am going with this, Right Blake?"_

 _"Adam, these are brilliant!"_

 _He smiles. "They think us monsters? Then we'll show them what true monsters are like..."_

"I don't get it."

Sun's comment slapped her out of her meander down Memory Lane.

"If you believe what you're doing is right, why hide who you are?"

Blake sighed as the echoes of that memory lingered. "The masks are a symbol," she explained somberly. "Humanity wanted to make monsters out of us, so we chose to don the faces of monsters."

"Grimm masks," Sun realized quickly. "That's kind of dark."

"So was the guy who started it," she replied, Adam's angered visage slicing its way through her mind's eye. They donned their masks and quickly entered the building.

Blake found herself relieved once she entered, though perhaps for the wrong reasons. Within the building's interior, a small army's worth of White Fang members had formed up into rows not unlike soldiers, easily numbering 100-plus or more. Though that was far from the source of her relief; by comparison, the count of new recruits maybe numbered only three or four dozen in comparison to the hundred or so she would sometimes see for monthly recruitment meetings back on Menagerie or in Mistral on the few occasions she journeyed with Adam to recruit there. _Adam's grasp here is weak,_ she thought to herself, _but why?_

"Thank you all for coming," began the Lieutenant—Blake recognized him from Adam's vanguard, a guy with a particular affinity for chainsaws—as he stood atop a platform in front of them all. "For those of you who are joining us for the first time tonight, allow me to introduce a very special comrade of ours! I can assure you, he is the key to obtaining what we have fought for for so long!"

Blake and Sun shared a look. _Who could he be talking about?_

And as if he had heard their thoughts, Roman Torchwick rounded the corner of the... _thing_ standing behind the Lieutenant. A chorus of angry retorts and cries lashed out at him.

"Thank you, thank you," he replied to the abyssal responses, "Please, hold your applause!"

A deer Faunus in front of them pointed angrily and cried out, "What's a human doing here?!"

Roman never let his smile and cool demeanor down as he replied, "I'm glad you asked, 'Deerie'! Now, I'll be the first to admit, humans... are the worst. Case in point. So, I understand why you would like to see us all locked away, or, better yet, _killed_!"

The chorus' tune changed, suddenly finding itself in harmony with its new composer. Sun leaned over and whispered, "So, is he going somewhere with this?"

"But, before the claws come out, I'd like to mention the fact that you and I all have a common enemy: the ones in control, the people pulling the strings, the dirty, rotten humans that run our kingdoms!" Another outcry, this time in his favor. Blake felt a pit growing in her stomach. "Government, military, even the schools: they're all to blame for your lot in life!" Another cry, this time a cheer of agreement. "And they're all pests that need to be dealt with! Fortunately, I'm the best exterminator around... No offense to any rodent Faunus in the room."

 **"And he is not the only one,"** boomed another voice.

Another figure rounded the same corner, and Blake felt a harrowing feeling of dread coursed through her.

He was titanic, easily Yatsuhashi's height if not potentially larger, though whether or not that was due to the massive, bulky armor he wore was up to debate. They couldn't see his face as it was hiding beneath a menacing helmet, its visor in the shape of a T as it was flanked by four long, spindly horns atop and along the sides of the helmet and a pair of small tusks along the bottom of the jawline. Various spines and horns adorned the armor, painted in a maroon-red color and rimmed with a silver that seemed perhaps too polished as they glimmered and gleamed in the dim lights of the warehouse. On his back, a black cape adorned with a fur collar fluttered behind him, tattered and yet ominous. A symbol adorned each shoulder; on the right, it was a terrifying image of a horned demon's head resting atop a book of scribbles, the demon's head also flaming furiously.

But the symbol on the left grabbed her attention even quicker: A silver wheel permeated by eight spikes, a skull resting in the center.

The Mark of the Eightfold Path.

 _This is bigger than I thought,_ she worryingly thought. _Adam's working with a gang of mass-murderers!?_

The crowd of new initiates immediately shut up, the fear practically palpable in the air.

 **"Fear not, dear friends,"** the smooth, baritone voice of the newcomer intoned across the room, his voice amplified by some built-in speaker, **"I mean you know harm; I have come to help you on your...** _ **Crusade.**_ **"** He walked forward, a massive cudgel in hand that seemed to tower as its spiked visage hid beneath the horrifying remains of a human skull. **"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Eliphas, Bearer of the Word, and I come before you with a message of peace and cooperation."**

The room remained silent as Blake watched this Eliphas with concern and intrigue. Something about this character seemed... Blake really couldn't describe it as anything other than, well... _ancient._

The giant warrior chuckled darkly as he continued. **"Now, of course, peace is no option for our enemies. Master Torchwick has already done a** _ **fine**_ **job of pointing out your oppressors and foes already, but I come to you to bring The Word. Not the Word of My Father, blessed is He, but The Word of our enemies' fate. Death, Death cries out for their corpses, Death cries out for their obliteration! I would see the Faunus-kind rise above their masters, rise above their inferior brethren! Even the Huntsmen Academies shoulder as much blame; for it was a young brother, new to the ways of the Fang, who was mercilessly slaughtered by the Lone Wolf Huntsman whom now resides at Beacon Academy!"**

Blake felt her heart stop for a second. _Jacob..._

The crowd began to reply back to his—well, this was honestly what she thought it was— _sermon_ , a hint of bloodthirst in their collective tone. This madman was already working them into a fervor, as if he knew just how to get their attention and hold tightly to it.

Eliphas made his way back to the tarp, passing by a tiny girl with pink and black hair whom stood astride Roman. **"Humanity has long made you to be its servants, long made you lay beneath their boots in the muck and the filth of the world! No more, I beg of thee, brothers and sisters of the White Fang, no more!"**

As his voice reached a climax of ecstatic fervor, the giant warrior-priest threw back the tarp with little effort, revealing what laid beneath:

A brand new Atlesian Paladin. The paint had already begun to be scraped off by force, the mark of Atlas' military painted over with the claw marks and wolf's head of the White Fang.

Sun was visibly shocked by the appearance of the massive machine. "Whoa, that's a big robot," he said worryingly.

"How did they get that," Blake asked rhetorically, eyeing the entire machine.

Now it was Roman's turn to talk again. "As some of you may have heard, this right here is Atlas' newest defense against all the scary things in the world. And thanks to our "employer", we've managed to snag a few before they, uh, "hit the shelves". Now, many of your brothers have already moved down to our new operation in the southeast. If you'd rather stay within the city, that's fine...

 **"But,"** the giant began again, his smooth baritone starting to worm its way into Blake's skull, **"if you're truly ready to fight for what you believe in, we shall show you the way to victory. Any questions?"**

A cacophony of cheers and roars met their ears. The crowd of newcomers had been worked into a frenzy by the oration; it shouldn't have been that easy, and yet he swayed them with a fairly weak oration! How!? "We should get out of here," Blake decided, fearing for her teammates and their cohort.

"Will all new recruits, please come forward!"

The crowd surged forwards at the Lieutenant's command. Now the escape was compromised.

 _Shit._

Sun was starting to panic. "What are we going to do?!"

Her mind was going a mile a minute at the moment. "I'm thinking," was all she could reply with.

Just then, her gaze wandered over Roman and the warrior-priest Eliphas.

At that point she realized that they were staring directly at her and Sun.

"They see us," Sun hissed in terror as Roman pointed the giant in their direction.

Her escape routes began to come to her: Out the back door? No, they'd be spotted and be fired upon. Blend in? No way, the façade was gone. About that time, she noticed a fuse box in the back of the room, just above the giant's head. "They can't see in the dark," she offered, unsheathing Gambol Shroud and squeezing off a shot.

The room was plunged into darkness and a chorus of screams.

Fortunately, most Faunus had extra-powerful night vision in comparison to humans, case in point Blake: It took less than a few seconds for her eyes to immediately adjust for the practically nonexistant light.

Unfortunately, everyone in the room except the giant and Roman were _also_ Faunus.

"Don't let them get away!" A Fang member cried out as he lunged for them. Both Sun and her ducked out of the way before charging through the initiates. Gunfire rang out as Faunus around them hit the deck. Another Fang member charged her with a sword, Gambol Shroud returning to its sword form as she locked blades and proceeded to deck the clearly-new Fang grunt in the temple. He fell over with no more than a small "oomph".

"Sun! The window!" She pointed up towards the top of the warehouse, a few medium windows letting in the tiniest bit of light from the moon.

The giant's cry of **"Stop them!"** Rang out, but the two agile and well-trained Faunus Huntsmen quickly ascended the wall and crashed through the windows, sprinting for their lives away from the warehouse.

But just as Blake predicted, Torchwick wouldn't have them escaping so easily.

The sound of concrete sundering and breaking heralded the Paladin's charge after them, the massive mech plodding along at nearly the same speeds as they were running. Even with sacrificing some of their Aura reserves to boost their speed they could barely outrun the mechanized suit.

"So, you wouldn't happen to have," Sun began as he followed beside her, flipping and sprinting his way across the rooftops, "oh, I don't know... some form of _backup_?!"

"On it!" She reached back into her pocket and latched onto her Scroll, dialing up the whole team of a group-chat.

 _Come on, come on, pick up!_

* * *

"...and then, Ragnar got the bright idea to chase the beast back to its cave, only to find the mother wolf had just recovered and was _even bigger!_ "

A wall of laughter pounded Jacob's ears, mostly coming from Ruby and... and _Titus._

 _Maybe I need to stop praying to my God,_ Jacob half-jokingly remarked in his head, _and maybe start making prayers to The Emperor at this point._

It had been thirty minutes since they had sat down and already everyone had put down orders for meals and for the most part consumed them. T-bones salads, warm plates of potatoes and country-fried steaks, a burger and even a half slab of ribs had been devoured at a leisurely pace. Ironically, getting a warm meal in his stomach was enough to start to settle his stomach, although it did little to help his mental concerns.

As—God, Jacob couldn't even believe he was saying this— _Logan Grimnar_ finished his story, a couple of people drew their attention towards Ruby and Weiss. "So," began Vulkan, "most of you know by now of Ms. Schnee's weapon, but I don't think anyone's seen Ruby's weapon, have they?"

There was a collective shake of "no" in response.

Jacob turned to find a very bright and beaming Ruby Rose bouncing up out of her seat on the end—they were seated from one end of the horseshoe booth to the other as such: from left to right it was Ruby, Jacob, Weiss, Vulkan, Cain, Gabriel, Logan, Titus, Mira—and unsheathed Crescent Rose with a spinning dervish as she held it up, doing what she could to avoid damaging the restaurant. A collective cry of surprise and delight left the table, though all but one voice had responded.

"The Death Guard called," "Gabe" said with a snarky laugh, "They want their Manreaper back."

Jacob felt his heart freeze up at that. That was an outright reference to Warhammer 40k, unless there was a gang out there who called themselves "The Death Guard" and also used giant "Manreaper" scythes in battle.

Jacob glanced at Gabe just in time to see "Cain" lightly elbow him in the ribs. "Really, Angelos?"

Cain's dry tone and impacting elbow seemed to make Gabe wince in response. "Sorry," he said in a hiss, "Just saying..."

Jacob forced his attention away and focused back on Ruby, whom was now beaming brightly as she explained, "...it's also a customizable, high-impact sniper rifle." She demonstrated her point with a quick spinning flourish, the blade retreating into the frame and the sniper form taking its place.

"Mira" whistled in impress. "Very nice," she said—Jacob only now noticed the faintest tinge of a British accent on her too—before chuckling with "Titus". "Never was one for sniper rifles, I'll admit, but I did have an affinity with standard range rifles."

Ruby gave her a puzzled look. "Were you in the military?"

Mira smiled knowingly. "Something like that," she replied with a chuckle. Jacob felt his stomach roil again, a very unpleasant feeling when it was already full of food.

"Ah, a battle scythe," "Logan" sighed wistfully, "Just like your mother's. _And_ your Uncle Qrow as well."

Jacob's gazed locked on Ruby again as she gained nostalgic smile and hugged Crescent Rose closer to her. Jacob felt a smile cross his face; he couldn't lie that there were moments when Ruby was cute as a button.

"Speaking of the old bird," Titus mentioned, "How is he?"

"Oh, uhm, Uncle Qrow's been out on a lot of missions lately, and I haven't heard much from some of the others at Haven. They said he's been out a lot and they've been getting substitutes a lot, but other than that I haven't heard anything else."

"The Grimm have been getting more restless as of late," Gabe replied, staring down at his plate. "A fair number of colonies on the outskirts of Vacuo and Mistral have been getting attacked more and more frequently. Something's spurring them on..."

Everyone stared at him with looks of fear, concern and annoyance. Jacob himself felt the middle-most of those three; where was that calm and content fellow he met on the docks those few weeks ago? Had that been a façade?

"Mood-killer as always, Gabe," Titus said as he patted the blonde Huntsman on the shoulder.

Just then, two Scrolls rang out in unison. Jacob felt his vibrate and looked down as Ruby and Weiss did on theirs.

A group call from Blake.

 _Showtime._

Blake's voice rang out. "Everyone! If you can hear me, we need back-"

"HEEEELLLLP!" Sun cried out.

Jacob sprung up, absentmindedly slapping a couple of Lien bills on the table for the trio's meals. "Sounds like they're in trouble," he said as he stretched and continued to listen their message.

"Big robot! And it's big! Really big!"

Ruby gained an excited smile. "Oh, I am _not_ missing this!" And like that she took off for the entrance.

"Ruby, wait!" Weiss cried, taking off after her partner. Jacob entered the call group as the Faunus duo continued.

"That Torchwick guy is in it! But not, like, it didn't eat him; he's, like, controlling it or something!"

Vulkan and the rest of the 40k facsimiles were on their feet by the time Weiss had left, all six of them crowding around Jacob. He couldn't lie how much he was about ready to start sweating bullets at this point. "What is going on?" Vulkan asked urgently, grabbing Jacob by the shoulder.

"Where are you guys?" Yang asked over the group call.

All Sun let out in response was a panicked "HURRYYYY!"

"We're drawing him towards the highways, try to get a height advantage from the overpasses!" Blake called out, a few pants leaving her side of the communique.

"Roger!"

"You got it!"

"Right behind you, Kitty-Cat!"

"Yang!"

Jacob picked up. "I'll be right there," he replied. "Damnit," he hissed after he turned off the system, "How the Hell am I gonna catch up!?"

"Jacob!" Vulkan cried out, making Jacob wince in surprise. "What. Is. Going. On?"

Jacob was struggling to answer him as all six of them had crowded around him, the visages of heroes of The Grimdark Future baring down on him with worry and confusion. After a few seconds of composing himself, he answered quickly, "Uh, Blake wanted to investigate what the White Fang have been doing since she let them, so team RWBY decided to split up and get info on them, but Ruby and I got sidetracked with another friend of ours and now it sounds like Blake's in trouble!"

Silence held sway for a few seconds. Jacob felt like it was the kind of silence leading up to some manner of punchline in a movie.

"Uh-huh," the Logan facsimile replied in a deadpan tone.

"Huh," Cain said with a laugh. "Like mother, like daughter, it seems Ms. Rose is getting tangled in all kinds of trouble."

"I agree," Vulkan said, though the calm demeanor had been replaced with a steely cool that screamed "soldier" to Jacob. "They said something about a 'big robot', then that means they'll need all the help they can get."

"But, like I said, how are we gonna catch up to them?"

Vulkan laughed. "It shouldn't be too hard," he replied, "The main highway overpasses are only about three miles southwards into the Industrial District. Come on!"

And like that, they were out the door and charging down the street. Jacob had to blink and process how quickly they had taken off before charging after them, shouting, "Jeez, wait for me!"

They hadn't even been running for long when they caught sight of the overpasses. Finally, something Jacob was familiar with structurally; back home his commute to the store for groceries or to see friends or whatever had him constantly crossing under and over and through the myriad of overpasses and bypasses lining the highways that passed through the city.

The majority of the group was already way ahead of Jacob by now, Cain and Gabe hanging back beside him. Jacob was straining to keep up, his lungs once again burning for the second time today.

"How do we know if they've gotten here?" Vulkan asked from out in front as the group of seven caught up.

Jacob felt a desire to roll his eyes in exasperation. "Okay," he wheezed as he caught up, "First thing Vulkan, is this... never ask a question like that... unless you can expect—"

 **CRASH!**

Jacob and the six others leapt in surprise as cars—full-on _cars_ —fell out of the sky and crumpled against the cold, hard ground. One, two, three... nine, ten, eleven cars had gone careening off the side of the overpass.

"Jesus Christ!" Jacob screamed as he recoiled.

The others, however, remained unfazed. "Logan," Vulkan began, issuing orders as if he had been doing it all his life—as expected from a team leader. "You and I are on Collateral. Gabriel, Titus, you two help out Ruby and her team, provide fire support and distractions."

A collective call of "Yes, sir" rang out as they set to work, Vulkan and Logan running towards the now-flaming wreckages to save as many civilians as they could. Their Auras flared to life without even a second to concentrate; Jacob usually had to take a few minutes to fully awaken his Aura for combat, hence how he fucked up at the Docks that night. In his wait for Roman's arrival he had only taken a fraction of that time, giving his Aura little chance to prepare for as much combat as he should have. While an activated Aura was always somewhat latent, it took a moment or more of concentration to bring it to full combat mode.

Speaking of which...

Jacob collected his thoughts and tried to focus through the din of battle. He focused again on that tiny flame he had seen so long ago when Pyrrha first helped him. That little image filled his mind's eye as he reached out for it, remembering what Pyrrha had first told him and Jaune when starting up their Auras...

 _"When you activate your Aura, the fastest way to do so is to find that image you first saw when it was activated the first time; everyone has an image of some kind that they come across. Mine was... well, mine was a candle-flame too, actually."_

 _"Really?"_

 _"Yes. That is your mind conjuring an idea of what your Aura is to you. It's a bit different for everybody."_

 _"Okay then... how do I use that image?"_

 _"Close your eyes... and picture that candle."_

Jacob's mind focused on that image of a candlelight, the flame flickering in his mind.

 _"Alright, what now?"_

 _"Imagine it growing stronger, brighter, larger..."_

The flame grew in size, slowly engulfing the candle. It grew and grew—first a small blaze, then the size of a campfire, then a bonfire, then—

He felt the rush in his body. His senses were alert and he felt perhaps a bit more energized than usual. _There we go_ , he thought to himself. He opened his eyes and looked around. Perhaps a minute or so had passed since he started, maybe even 40 or 50 seconds; he was already getting faster he realized to himself.

"Well come on," Mira said to him as she began after her husband, "Took you long enough!"

"Right, right, sorry." He took off after them, the burning in his lungs having tapered off. With his Aura active he was already feeling stronger and faster than before, as if his body had been supercharged. Granted, he was still lagging a bit behind the other four that charged off after Roman, but now he didn't feel like he needed a tank of oxygen after that sprint.

"I could get use to this," he said to himself as he charged after them, following the path of the stolen Atlesian Paladin.

He followed for a good solid minute from ground level, the sight of the Atlesian Paladin popping in and out of sight in short intervals from above as it ducked and weaved. Eventually he saw Neptune jump onto the automaton's back only to be tossed about like a ragdoll.

 _Don't do it, Sun,_ he thought to himself as he remembered the monkey Faunus' next move.

Sun didn't get the memo as he jumped at the mech, his golden Semblance constructs jumping at Roman as well. Just like in canon, he saw Neptune get tossed ahead and into Sun with enough force to send them flying over the side. Only this time, it was off to the right and towards him rather than off to the left.

Jacob found himself on autopilot as he snaked off towards them, hoping those two meatheads were alright. Sure enough, he came to a stop in front of the two Mistrali students whom had landed in a thick bush in a tangle of limbs.

"Are you guys alright," Jacob asked, well aware that he was hardly winded.

"We're fine, don't worry about us! Just help Blake," Sun said with an edge of concern.

Jacob nodded and charged after them. Just then he spotted something a pure white color drop down from the highest overpass. _Weiss,_ he realized quickly. There was a flash of white as Weiss laid down her ice patch, sending Roman skidding and stumbling over the side to the ground below.

Another blur zoomed by him, the smell of fresh roses in its wake. Ruby skidded to a stop directly in front of him, forcing him to come to a stop as well. Titus, Gabe and Mira had taken up positions to Ruby's left while he stood on the right. Without a second's hesitation the rest of Team RWBY dropped beside Jacob, setting up their battle stances. Jacob unholstered Titan and Cadia, spinning them as he loaded up Lightning Dust magazines.

"Twin pistols? I didn't take you for a long-range fighter," Cain said with a laugh.

"Believe me Ciaphas," Gabe replied, "the bigger gun has a few tricks up its sleeves."

Jacob didn't reply. He was focused on how this fight would now go: rather than 4 on 1, it was now _9_ on 1. It was doubtful that Roman would escape this time.

The Paladin began walking towards them, but it stopped as something landed directly in front of it.

Something rather large and metal.

Something covered in spikes.

It stood up and revealed itself in fullness, and Jacob felt the world spin on its head.

Spiky features to the armor, maroon-blood red armor, silver edges, about seven feet tall give or take...

The legion badge of the Word Bearers on the cartoonily-massive right shoulderpad.

And a four-horned helmet her recognized from one too many playthroughs of the _Dark Crusade_ campaign.

 **"Ah, I see you have company, Ms. Belladonna,"** said Eliphas the Inheritor—that was really all Jacob could call him though his body armor wasn't quite like that which the Word Bearer Apostle wore in-game—the cool, smooth voice of Paul Dobson leaking out from the obvious speakers on his helmet with the faintest reverb behind it. **"Well, well, well, it appears all of Team RWBY is present. How delightful."** He reached behind him and produced a spiked pair of rings that had hung by his belt. Tapping it once, twice, three times, a long bar exited the base of the rings as they rotated and became the spiky skeleton of a ball. Spinning it a few times in his hand, he smashed the weapon into the ground, fracturing the concrete beneath it.

"An Accursed Crozius," Jacob breathed in fear, his voice hardly reaching above a whisper. The badge of a Dark Apostle and their main weapon. Despite the dizzying image presented, some terrified part of Jacob's mind muttered, _please don't have a meltagun, please don't have a meltagun..._

 **"And—Oh my** _ **Gods,**_ **Gabriel Angelos, is that you!? My word, it's been far too long,"** Eliphas said as if seeing a longtime friend.

"Eliphas, you treacherous cur," _Gabriel Angelos_ seethed as he unsheathed his mighty hammer. It gleamed even in the moonlight, golden-trimmed and of some form of steel beneath. One side was spiked like a meat tenderizer and the other flat like a standard war hammer.

 **"Still as vindictive as ever,"** "Eliphas" said as coolly as ever. **"The falsehoods you have been taught here only amplify your ignorance as ever, _Loyalist."_ ** He glanced over towards Titus and Mira and chuckled, the two bristling at the sound. **"At last, I return to a worthy fight! Whoever wins here, the Gods will be delighted either way. Have at thee!"** at that, he spun the Crozius a few times again, swinging it back behind himself, his chin tilting up as he beckoned them forth in challenge.

Neither member of the couple replied, only glaring daggers. Titus hauled out a massive rifle—a Bolter if it was also hit with the Remnant Stick, as what was clearly covered in many more buttons and switches, as well as also sported a curved bayonet blade beneath the gun. Beside him Mira unholstered—well, there was no denying it—a _Cadian Kantrael M36_ _Lasrifle,_ albeit clearly modified to sport conventional rounds if the cocking handle he spotted said anything about that.

Jacob turned and looked at the members of RWBY, a clamminess spreading across his face.

They looked back at him with apprehension and fear. This was far from "according to plan".

"I hate to break up this little reunion," came the annoyed voice of Roman Torchwick over the Paladin's intercom, "but can we s _hut up and kill them already!?"_

Jacob braced for what he imagined would be a ferocious battle before Gabriel cried out, "You kids deal with the man in the mech, we'll handle Eliphas!"

Jacob and Ruby looked at one another. Ruby nodded in agreement; the fight with this Eliphas was too risky in comparison to dealing with Torchwick.

Jacob sighed in resignment. "He's right," he said as he and RWBY circled around Eliphas and back towards Roman, all the while Jacob thought to himself, _at least we can adhere to canon._

And then the fighting began.

 _"Freezer Burn!"_ Ruby cried out as she suddenly leapt back away from Roman's stolen mech, Weiss charging forwards and jabbing Myrtenaster into the ground beneath her to conjure up a field of ice before darting backwards. At the same time, Yang launched herself high into the sky and immediately reversed course, slamming back down onto the ice just as Weiss got out of the way with an earthshaking punch from Ember Celica. The ice met Yang's Fire Dust-infused punch and summoned forth a tremendous cloud of fog, obscuring the Paladin's optics. Jacob himself was also caught in the edge of the blast, tossing him into a wall of white steam. In the warm summer air still cooling down for the night, it was far from refreshing. He made out the figures of Blake and Yang beginning to circle the behemoth machine as said mech activated several laser optics in an attempt to catch them off and let loose into them; the massive guns on the damnable thing would probably just as easily shred all five of them to bits as a Tau Battlesuit would shred Guardsmen apart in the Shooting Phase.

The mech spotted the two dashing ladies but couldn't land a shot on them, only managing to hit their general area. One shot zoomed past Jacob by a few feet, prompting him to go to ground and begin letting loose on the mech; maybe if she shot out the joints it could cause the mech to crash to the ground, allowing them to capture Roman much easier than in canon.

 _No, stupid! You need it to go as canon, remember!?_

Regardless, if he at least took out one joint it could make the girls' fight easier.

Ruby suddenly charged out of the fog, her cute battle cry escaping into the night air as she collided scythe-first with the mech, sending it stumbling backwards."Checkmate!"

This time, Blake and Weiss zoomed forwards, striking at the legs with only the intent to distract; hardly any of their blows could break the outer exoskeleton. That didn't matter though as Weiss suddenly jumped up and stabbed her rapier deep into one of the sensors before kicking off of one of her own white glyphs.

Watching the girls fight was like watching a dance in motion; a dance of life and death to be sure, but a dance nonetheless. "God and The Emperor bless you, Monty," Jacob said with a weak but happy chuckle.

But then he had to turn around and stare at the other battle.

Right there beside him, within hearing distance, was Mira.

She was staring at him like he had just proclaimed allegiance to Chaos in front of the Ecclesiarchy, the shock mirroring how he was feeling.

"...What did you say?"

Jacob felt an icy chill grip his heart.

The way she reacted to that was no coincidence.

"I-uh, I was just saying—"

The next words out of her mouth, relinquished in a worried and urgent tone, sent him into the final dizzying spin to end all dizzying spins.

"What was that you said about The Emperor?"

The way she said it, the reverence that dripped from the word "Emperor"... there was no mistake...

This _was_ Lieutenant Miranda Nero, the Cadian, the Ork-Slayer.

He was in the presence of a real, honest-to-God Imperial Guardsman.

And that meant...

His eye was drawn to the other battle.

By comparison, it was hardly as flashy, though he could not deny the intricate combat techniques presented. Rifle and hammer met... met accursed crozius in melee, the weapons spinning as the three combatants danced their thousand-year-old dance of war.

Titus Ultramar, _the_ Second Company Captain of the Ultramarines was dueling _the_ Dark Apostle Eliphas the Inheritor alongside _the_ Chapter Master of the Blood Ravens, Gabriel Angelos.

Nothing made sense anymore. He wanted to scream and laugh, to lose his mind in the now-never-ending madness that just wanted to break his mind like an egg. He wanted to—

Jacob's Aura screamed for him to duck. He complied and saw a massive round slam into the Lieutenant's side. Under normal circumstances, Jacob would have expected her side to disappear in a puff of gore and smoke.

Imagine his surprise when she instead recoiled back a few feet physically unscathed, her body flaring up with a deep violet Aura. She groaned and shook her head, blinking heavily as she recovered. "Okay," she said, "Well talk about this later." Just then, a barrage of missiles exploded in mid-air behind them; Weiss had just hit Blake with that weird time-dilation Glyph, giving her the extra speed to destroy the missiles before they reached their targets.

"I wholeheartedly agree!" Ciaphas Cain— _the_ Ciaphas Cain—roared as he dodged a monumental swing from Eliphas. He backed off and produced from beneath his jacket his own weapon; A black and silver double-edged chainsword, though there was no clear evidence that it could transform as most Remnant weapons could. "Come on!" Mira nodded and began to pour shots out from her Lasgun, the red contrails following her every shot alluding to a Fire Dust payload.

"R-right," Jacob stuttered, deciding to jump back into the fight between RWBY and Roman.

He couldn't have timed it better as he saw the Paladin send Yang into a support column with a humongous punch. He felt a sudden burst of protectiveness envelop him. "Yang!" He cried out in synch with Blake as he started to run towards her.

"Don't worry," Ruby cried out, "With each hit she gets stronger, and she uses that energy to fight back! That's her Semblance!"

Jacob's gaze bounced back between her and Yang, only to notice Yang wasn't getting up. She was barely even stirring.

And Roman was right on top of her.

 _Canon be damned,_ he panicked, leveling Cadia and Titan in unison and squeezing of a few shots to get his attention.

The Paladin stopped. Its torso turned slowly.

"Hey Torchwick! Looking for someone to kick!? Try this asshole here!"

" _Well well,"_ Roman began through the intercom, " _If it isn't Mr. Lone Wolf. If you so insist, I'll kill you first."_

Jacob breathed in and out, the back of his mind imagining the flame becoming a roaring inferno in hopes that it would boost him enough to withstand any attacks he couldn't dodge. With a flick of his wrist, Cadia transformed from hellpistol to chainsword as he roared, "Bring it on, asshole! Let's dance!"

There was about 60 feet between them; the Paladin could probably take about eight or so steps and it would be in range to pummel his face in. It started walking towards and shooting at the ground in front of him in an attempt to scare him off. He refused to yield.

With a growl, he began to charge, screaming at the top of his lungs, "GLORY TO THE FIRST MAN TO DIE!"

Torchwick was far from a good shot, as every shot from the arm cannon missed its mark by at least a half-foot as Jacob closed in. The gun returned to fist mode, throwing a swing down towards Jacob's head. Jacob jumped forwards, the fist clipping the back of his hiking shoes by a hair's breadth. Jacob rolled beneath the legs, hoping to find an opening: _There,_ he saw directly ahead of him, _An open spot in the knee joint!_ He didn't hesitate as he spun to his feet, snapping off three rounds into the left knee joint before Roman could have a chance to react. Two pinged off the armor beside it, but one made it in, metal rending to Dust-infused metal. The knee joint began to fail, but it wasn't enough. He heard Ruby cry out his name in fear but he refused to back down. He began to swing Cadia, looking to introduce the bladed teeth to the machine's knee.

He didn't anticipate the mech to suddenly be blown off its feet by something from above, sending his swing off-balance and introducing the chainsword to the center of the machine's calf. It pinged off effortlessly, sending Jacob flailing backwards to the ground. He looked up to what hat hit the Paladin.

He was dumbstruck.

Her eyes were a blood red now, her hair glowing gold and her Aura flaring furiously.

Yang was in full Rage Mode.

She landed on the ground beside Jacob in a Three-Point Landing, the air around her making him feel like he was sitting inside a broiler.

Without a sound, she fired Ember Celica behind her, propelling her forwards at Roman's mech with the force of a hurricane gale. She slammed into it, fist-first, sending the mech backwards.

In desperation, Roman kicked out with the mech's left foot, managing to catch Yang in the chest and send her tumbling backwards.

Ruby called out another combo attack: " _Bumblebee!_ "

 _And the shippers rejoiced,_ Jacob spat in humor as Blake launched Gambol Shroud towards Yang, holding on to the whip while Yang caught the gun itself. The two began to spin like a top, gaining momentum to launch Yang like a discus.

Jacob hung low to the ground as the whip passed overhead. "Ruby," he cried out, "You need to slow the bastard down so Yang can get a good shot!"

"And how do you suppose we do that!?" Weiss cried out.

"Like so!"

Jacob whipped around to see Mira down on one knee, lining up her lasgun with the Paladin. She fired once, twice, three times, the red contrail now a blue-white color, the color of Ice Dust. He whipped around to see the shots hit their mark, ice covering the on-board cameras and blocking Roman's view of the fight.

Jacob looked back in confusion as the Blake's whip continued to circle over him. "I thought you said you didn't like snipers!"

"I said I don't like snipers," she retorted back, continuing to fire at the Paladin, "but the marksmanship is fine; I don't like how they hide away from the fight! If you're going to fight your enemies..." she paused as she overcharged a shot, the resulting impact forming a humongous wall of ice over the last arm that froze it solid, "Don't play dirty."

"Imperial logic at its finest," Jacob muttered to himself as Ruby and Weiss joined in, pelting Roman with their "Ice Flower" attack. Jacob splayed out and began to open fire too, aiming at the same spot he had originally attacked in hopes of destroying the joint. He saw flashes of his shots impact everywhere around the joint but never directly in it. Still, the mech became frozen in place as the ice built up on it more and more.

Finally, Blake and Yang decided that they had built enough momentum. She swung her partner around in a circle one more time, Yang's fists glowing with raw energy.

Roman had nowhere to run.

Yang collided with the Paladin fist-to-face, and the several-ton machine flew through the air like a limp ragdoll before crashing down in a hundred pieces and one defeated and embarrassed criminal.

Slowly and with a few groans of pain Roman toddled to his feet, brushing himself off and muttering, "I just got this thing cleaned..." All five of the combatants converged on him, Jacob changing Cadia back into her chainsword form and revving her in an attempt to intimidate Roman into submission.

He looked up just in time to see Yang, still burning with her absorbed power, fire a single shot at him.

A blur of pink, white and brown zoomed down in front of Roman.

The shot from Ember Celica harmlessly collided with a pink parasol, opened to reveal the frilly print on it.

The little psychopath, Neopolitan, smiled back at them as she raised her parasol up on her shoulder with an intentionally innocent smile on her face.

Jacob expected them to now beat a hasty retreat with Neo's Semblance, cackling away like all cartoon villains.

He did _not_ however, expect Eliphas to come crashing down beside them, groaning in tire and pain as he slowly returned to his feet. Titus, Cain and Gabriel joined the fray, the four Imperials to Jacob's left and Team RWBY to his right, putting him in the center.

Eliphas laughed, a faint reverbing echo behind his every sound and syllable. **"By the** _ **Gods,**_ **I haven't had a fight that good in years!"**

"The jig is up, for all of you," Jacob offered, falling back on the old movie clichés. "Surrender now and we'll spare you a trip to the hospital before you head to The Clink."

The Word Bearer chuckled darkly. **"No, I think** _ **not.**_ **"**

Jacob felt a nagging feeling from his Aura that something was—

Suddenly, Jacob felt something slam headlong into his chest, sending him flying backwards several feet. He hit the ground hard and rolled, the world becoming a kaleidoscope of pain and moonlight and the smell of gunpowder. He felt his Aura drain away; more than half disappeared with that one shot. It felt like a minute had passed before he crawled up onto his knees. He looked up and found Eliphas standing ten feet in front of him, the fluttering of his cape telling him that the warrior hadn't even needed but a second to reach him. Way in the back he saw Roman with Melodic Cudgel raised, the barrel end smoking; Roman had shot him with an overcharged shot, and he had ignored his Aura's warnings.

Eliphas reached behind his back and produced a gun. Jacob felt the blood rush from his face for the second time tonight.

 _Of course it's a fucking meltagun,_ he whimpered mentally, the tank-buster weapon's spikes and rims maliciously shining in the moonlight.

The others tried to reach him, only to be blocked by Roman and Neo as they flipped over their heads and began firing, forcing everyone else on the defensive.

 **"You fight well, Lone Wolf,"** Eliphas began, leveling the rifle at Jacob, **"But your vigor to fight will not save you... or that which you cherish."**

Jacob saw everything flash before him—his family, his life, his memories both on Earth and on Remnant, all the friends he had once had and now had, Pyrrha, Penny, Jaune, Ruby, Weiss, Yang—as he saw the weapon power up.

He stared Eliphas down, some glimmer of hope desiring that he would be intimidated or even impressed by Jacob's refusal to go quietly.

Jacob's mind decided that if these were his last words, he would make them memorable.

His brother's favorite Successor chapter had just the thing.

"For those I cherish... I die in glory."

The humming hit a fever pitch.

He flinched as he heard the sound of the gun fire, a shotgun blast to rival a jet engine.

He heard Yang and Ruby scream his name in terror.

He heard the sharp _clang_ of metal meeting something else metal.

Everything was quiet.

 _Am I dead?_

He peaked open his eyes and was shocked once again.

Standing in front of him was another tall warrior, clad in a brown longcoat and blue jean pants. He wielded a massive shield, far too large to not be incredibly heavy, and in his other hand an equally massive hammer, on par with Magnhilde. The shield had blocked the meltagun's shot, the red vaporous contrails dissipating into the night sky telling Jacob all he needed to know about what the Marine was going to shoot him with.

But his eyes were too focused on the hammer in the man's hand.

A hammer that was topped with a clenched fist holding the hammer's head.

The man made no sound, even as Eliphas cried out, **"You! Perfidious—"**

Eliphas had no time to react as the man slammed the hammer into him, sending him tumbling into Neo and Roman like a bowling ball.

Two more figures dropped down beside him, both women if the hips and waists were any indication. Jacob hauled himself to his feet, watching them all.

The smaller woman turned around, to look at Jacob, and Jacob found himself taken aback by her looks; peroxide-blonde hair done up in bangs and a ponytail, sapphire blue eyes, a dusting of freckles across her cheeks and her nose bridge. "What are you waiting for," she hissed, "Get your damn guns! You call yourself a Lone Wolf!?"

Jacob shook his head as the adrenaline surge wore out. "Right, right," he said as he shakily picked up Cadia and Titan.

"Ladies, Gents," Roman said as he and the other two rose and dusted themselves off. "Ice Queen—"

"Hey!"

"Always a pleasure! Neo, if you would..."

Neopolitan curtsied low as Eliphas let out another menacing chuckle, even in defeat clearly having too much fun. **"It's been a pleasure, Huntsmen. Let the games of the Gods begin."**

Yang wasn't having any of it, charging forth with fists raised to strike them all.

Her fist met them, and they collectively shattered as if glass.

All who were present turned just in time to see the trio jump into a low-flying Bullhead and careen into the night sky.

The battlefield was quiet for a few seconds.

"So," Blake began slowly, " _that_ happened."

Ruby careened over to Jacob, hugging him tightly as she blurted out in a panic, "Oh my God, Jacob! Please tell me you're okay!"

"Shh, easy, Ruby" Jacob huffed as he returned the hug, "I'm alright; a bit shaken, now fully aware what it's like to see your life flash in front of you before you die, but I'll live." Still, his assurance didn't ease her much until Yang walked over, holding Ruby by the shoulder and leading the young Huntress into her embrace.

"I guess he got a new henchman," Yang seethed as the two sisters embraced, the tension in her voice shrinking down as well. "That was a really dumb move on your part, Jacob."

"Says the girl who only thinks with her fists," he laughed tiredly, letting his Aura rest as his adrenaline boost wore off.

Weiss came up beside them with a smile. "Yeah, I guess she really made our plans—"

"Weiss," Jacob warned, "Don't you dare..."

"— _fall apart_!"

Jacob introduced his forehead to his palm with an audible smack. Ruby giggled and Yang groaned in something of an emotional mixture between exasperation and amusement.

"No," Blake deadpanned, "just... no."

"What- But, you do it!" Weiss was starting to fume.

" There's a time and a place for jokes," Yang said with a huff as she let go of Ruby, whom was now smiling and giggling at the pun.

"Was this not it?"

"No, it just wasn't very good."

"Well, at least I'm trying!"

Jacob chuckled as the argument continued, only to notice that the rest of their group had broken off and were hugging and laughing with the newcomers. Jacob walked over to them slowly, hoping he wasn't interrupting.

Was this real? Were they the real deal? Were they all the myriad Heroes of the Imperium of Man?

Had _Warhammer 40k_ come to _RWBY?_

Just then, a duo of thunderous footfall rang out. Vulkan and Logan rounded the corner.

"There you all are," Vulkan said with an audible sigh of relief, "I was beginning to worry. Where is Torchwick?"

"He got away, Vulkan," Gabriel fumed angrily, planting his hammer in the ground.

Logan huffed in obvious disappointment. "No matter," he said—Jacob only now realized that he sounded much like that Youtuber ZorantheBear's Leman Russ voice—kneeling down beside Gabriel, "we sent them on the run."

"And now they know about us," Gabriel added.

"What's so wrong about that?"

Gabriel hesitated. "Because someone was with them."

There was a pregnant pause before Vulkan asked, "Someone?"

"...Eliphas was with them."

Both warriors glanced at one another over Gabriel's announcement. All the while, Jacob watched from the side.

"Are you sure it was him?" Logan asked.

"Badge, armor and everything," Gabriel said as he held his head in his hands.

But Vulkan had already noticed Jacob. "Mr. Muller," he said with a hint of worry, "Are you alright?"

"Uh, I guess I am," he said hesitantly, the sudden outlying prospect of who he was talking to becoming rather terrifying, "I got a chance to have my life flash before my eyes. If not for uhm... whoever that was that blocked the shot, that uh... _meltagun_ would have mulched me."

Vulkan stiffened at the word "meltagun". "How do you know what a meltagun is?"

About that time, the newcomers arrived, and Jacob was terrified once again.

The girl he had already seen, but the other woman—who was now clearly her mother—rang a bell or two from _The Carrion Throne:_ "...a stocky woman, thirty Terran-standard years old, short peroxide-blonde hair, broad features, pale freckled skin, brown eyes. She would see the tight features, the erect stance, the belligerence bubbling under the surface, only tempered by decades of conditioning."

Luce Spinoza, Interrogator under Inquisitor Crowl.

And the man beside her... well, the fact that he looked like a blonde Joakim Brodén, aviators and all, didn't help much.

But that appearance, plus wielding The Fist of Dorn and a Storm Shield emblazened with the sigil of the Imperial Fists? Who else could it be?

"Apologies for the abrupt introduction," he said to Jacob in a throaty, baritone voice, "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Darnath Lysander." He offered a hand.

Jacob felt the world start to spin as he took the Imperial Fists' hand and returned the shake. "Pleasure to meet you sir," he said weakly, "Jacob Muller, at yours."

"I'm his wife, Luce."

"A p-pleasure as well," he said, the dizziness getting worse.

"And I'm Rey," said the daughter, taking Jacob's hand in her own and shaking hard.

"...Again, a pleasure..." He said. The world was slowly becoming a Vomit Comet.

"Jacob? Are you alright?" Vulkan asked, grabbing him by the shoulder.

"Uh..." Jacob hesitated, breathing a bit as he tried to regain his composure.

Not enough.

"Nope," he said weakly as the world dimmed and his legs gave out from underneath him.

The last thought in his mind before it was swallowed by unconsciousness?

 _God help me... Or... The Emperor..._

* * *

 ** _Welp._ That happened.**

 **Now that the shit has hit the fan and the secret is somewhat out, How's Jacob gonna get out of this one?** **Tune in next time, same Grimdark time, same Grimdark place~!**

 **On a side note, I really hope I got Eliphas right; it's tough to write for a character who's 10,000 years old and clearly evil as sin.**

 **And on one final note,**

 **Anywho, reviews, comments, follows and favorites, I thank all of you who've been vocal and active as I've written this and I hope that, though I'm sure not everyone celebrates it as my family and I do, everyone has a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Here's to another year of The Random Hand of Fate!**

 **And I will see you all... in the next chapter. Peace out!**


	22. Morning Tea with an Ultramarine

**Well, took me a whole month, on top of catching that f*cking flu bug a few weeks ago that is going around.**

 **Also, for the first time in this whole story, I finally remembered something key to fanfic writing:**

 **NOTE: Warhammer 40,000 and all associated concepts, characters, places, events, factions and objects are trademarked property of Games Workshop. _RWBY_ and all associated characters, places, events, concepts, factions and objects are a trademarked property of Rooster Teeth Animation and Monty Oum.**

 **Enjoy...**

* * *

 **Chapter 22: Morning Tea with an Ultramarine**

 _"To stand amongst legends and heroes is a privilege that only the lucky, the skilled and the dead experience." —Chaplain Galahad, 3_ _rd_ _Company, Red Templars Chapter_

* * *

It was pitch black... and that was it.

That's all there was. Pitch darkness.

An eternity in a void.

Or at least that would have been the case, were a figure not laying in front of him. Or, at least he thought so; despite the abyss of ink around him, the body seemed to be illuminated enough for him to see it. He couldn't make out the details, merely that there was a clear curve to the body; whoever—or whatever—it was, they were female.

"Hello?"

There was no response.

He walked closer without hesitation, shuffling forwards. It felt like it took forever to reach the figure, the body still remaining motionless as he strolled towards it. He didn't care about where this place was or what he was doing here; his only concern was that person.

He reached it in little time—or perhaps it had been a long time—and he bent down towards what he assumed was the head. His hand brushed past long, silky hair as he reached down and felt for their pulse.

No pulse, yet the body was still warm.

His eye caught the faintest bit of light from father down the body. He traced the path down the spine to the offending light source. His gaze met a glowing ring in the center of the back, just where the shoulders met. The hot red and yellow light was faint and yet it burned his retina furiously. He found his finger gently tracing it, feeling a great heat emanating from it. His finger dipped into the center only to miss the feeling of meeting flesh, as if it had been carved out.

His other hand gently touched the side of the body only to encounter leather and metal buttons along the side; some kind of jacket, perhaps. The curve of the waist told him they were definitely female.

 _Why does this... seem familiar..._

Either his vision began to improve or the world around them was beginning to brighten: Now he could start to see.

Crimson locks done up in a ponytail sat limp in his face. The golden glimmer of a choker danced across his eyes.

His hand laid gently on a leather corset, black laces along the back.

The tiny glowing wound he quickly noticed hadn't been entirely round, but rather there was a thin diamond to the shape as well.

He felt panic.

 _No... no!_

He flipped the body onto its back, the flash of an obsidian arrow caught in his periphery.

She stared off into the void above, emerald eyes flat and lifeless. There was no warmth to be found there, no joy or sorrow, no after to see, no before to have been seen.

Just an abyss.

Her mouth was open, a single line of blood tracing a line to her chin.

His eye was drawn to her chest in fear; the same offending hole as on her back now glowed faintly from her front, jutting out from her cleavage. just where the sternum would be—and below that, her heart.

 _Pyrrha! No! No! Please, Pyrrha! Wake up!_

He cradled her head, desperately staring into her eyes for something, anything to tell him she was still there.

A cackle, somewhere high above him. Another sound chimed in, a feminine chuckle. Then another, this one a growling rumble, and another son after, a gurgling, raspy laugh.

He tore his eyes away from her lifeless corpse and gazed upwards.

Everything stared back at him from above.

Eyes beyond count blinked amidst a dizzying spiral of blue mist.

Gnashing teeth and anguished cries reached his ears with relentless fury, sending the world into a blood-red haze.

Sensual and horrifying forms twisted and writhed within a sea of purple velvet so vibrant a color it hurt his eyes.

A host of flies and shambling corpses stared down and reached out from a miasma of sickly-green smoke.

 _ **"What chance have you, Little Warrior? What hope do you have to keep her safe? You are weak of heart and stomach; what warrior won't spill the blood of his enemies to protect those he cares for!?"**_

 _ **"Hoohoohoo, that's not even the biggest laugh! He really thinks he can outsmart Fate? He hasn't even come up with a valuable plan outside of letting the chips fall where they may! He should have contingencies, improvisations, an actual plan! At this point he will lose her without doubt; the girl sacrificed all for one big lie—or technically two at this point."**_

 _ **"Oh, you two, you aren't even noticing the exquisite anguish radiating off of him. That passion, that fire, that hatred, oh, it is simply divine; and there is surely more to come if he does fail. But he shouldn't worry too much; I could make the pain far more... tolerable, if he would let me into his heart."**_

 _ **"The stagnation that radiates from him would be perfect back home! He seeks stability, peace, and I cannot deny that look of sorrow in his eyes. Come to my embrace, my child, let my myriads give you peace; become one with us..."**_

 _No, no, stay away from her! Get away!_

The forms grew closer with each passing second, their forms twisting against the growing kaleidoscope of colors. He held her tightly, wanting to shelter her body; they would not defile her!

The colors grew, the madness coming closer...

Chaos.

Her head snapped towards him, the eyes now glazed and faded as if the eyes of the long-dead.

 **"Why didn't you save me!?"**

His eyes snapped open and were met with a wooden pattern above him. He didn't find himself vaulting awake like they did in movies and comics—that was ridiculous, didn't they know one's body freezes up in REM—but his leg did kick out towards the side of the bed. He felt flushed and sweaty, his breath haggard as his heart raced in his chest.

 _Where am I?_

He righted himself only to receive a head rush. As the stars cleared from his vision he began to make out familiar shapes.

The door to the room.

The bookstand beside his bed.

The desk off to the side.

The 40k models sitting atop the desk.

Jacob sighed. "I'm in bed. It was just a dream..." He ran a hand through his hair. His mind was groggy and dazed as he tried to clamor out of his terror. It had just been a dream, nothing more...

Granted, a dream about Pyrrha being dead in his arms as The Chaos Gods attempted to take them both, but a dream none the less.

Something was egging at his mind. Something about last night. As Jacob got up, he noticed his chest was aching like it had been struck by fist bigger than a watermelon was wide.

"Damn, what the hell did I do last—"

It came back to him.

 _A Minor Hiccup_ and _Paint the Town..._

Now the memories were starting to stream in: Penny, the White Fang, Torchwick's Paladin... And something else.

Ciaphas Cain. Meeting Ciaphas Cain beside Weiss and Ruby.

Vulkan and his team... their names: Vulkan He'Stan, Titus Ultramar, Logan Grimnar, Gabriel Angelos...

Jacob shook his head. "No, no, must've been a dream too. Maybe I should lay off the soda at dinner from now on," he muttered to himself as he shambled into the bathroom to shower.

As he cleaned up from his sweat-inducing night terror, he desperately tried to figure out what had happened the previous night. There was no way that had been real; no way that the heroes of Warhammer 40k were in _RWBY._

"I must have hit my head or something," he reasoned to himself. "Okay, okay, what do you remember, Jacob? Let's see, I went with Ruby and learned Penny's secret, okay that's vivid in my mind, then after that..."

He was stumped, the memories of the previous night not making sense. It couldn't have possibly been that way, right?

He touched the tender spot in the center of his chest.

The memory of the barrel of a meltagun staring him down roared at him in defiance of his denial, and from behind that barrel the helmet of Eliphas the Inheritor.

It was real.

Warhammer 40k was in _RWBY._

The shower tiles took on a sickly yellow hue as he dry-heaved his empty stomach onto the floor beneath him. He couldn't help but take to both knees as he fought the abject horror of that mental image bearing down on him.

So many questions raced through his head: Was it just the characters or did The Warp reach here to? If the latter was true, were the Chaos Gods here? Did they scheme and distort here too? Did the Astronomican reach here, if they were even still in the Milky Way? Were they still in the Milky Way? Should he expect the Indomitus Crusade and Roboute Guilliman to drop by sometime soon?

His head swam in circles like a submarine propeller as he raced through the prospects of such a situation.

After a full minute did something finally click:

Canon.

He couldn't rely on canon anymore.

Everything was in the air now, every one of them was now in Salem and Cinder's firing line. Canon and plot armor wouldn't save any of them now.

Ruby, Yang, Weiss, Blake.

Nora, Ren...

Jaune and Pyrrha.

His stomach lurched again. He held his head in his hands as he desperately tried to come to grips with this new situation.

After a full minute of fighting the urge to scream, Jacob drew back his hand and slapped himself aside his head. "Focus, dipshit," he hissed at himself. "Now is not the time to freak out. You just need to keep calm and keep a weather eye out, right? There's still the Dance, there's still the Festival, you still have some framework to work off of. If Cinder's still going ahead with her plan, you've also got that to your advantage..." He stood up slowly, turning off the shower and stepping out to dry off, all the while the while the face of Eliphas the Inheritor staring him down from the memory of a meltagun barrel.

He'd stared down the barrel of a real-deal meltagun, the Imperium's answer to armored tanks.

"I so fucking wish I was 21 right now," he muttered as he looked himself in the mirror; already the 5 o' clock shadow he was so used to was returning despite having shaved the previous morning. His eyes were more bloodshot than usual and there were a few bags under them as well, no doubt thanks to that nightmare.

The more he thought about that nightmare the more his stomach rebelled against him. Were those the _real_ Chaos Gods? Or was it only his own mind at work here?

This kind of abject horror was new to him; he needed something to comfort him.

He walked out and quickly put on his usual attire before looking around for something, anything to help him. For a minute he paced in a furious panic; what could he do?

Jacob finally flopped back down on his unmade bed, cradling his head in his hands again as he roared in frustration. He looked at his phone: 7:45 in the morning, the sun already well above the horizon if the light from out the window was any indication. His hands fell limp to the side as he looked down towards the bookshelf.

"Maybe something I could read," he muttered to himself as he began shuffling through the books he had. Sadly, most of seemed to be related to 40k, much to his annoyance in this given situation; _Flight of the Eisenstein, The Traitor's Hand,_ A few of the Codices, he'd even asked Blake if he could borrow _Ninjas of Love_ out of pure boredom and curiosity of how lewd it could possibly get. Not even the textbooks he honestly thought would help him.

But his hand brushed a book he had forgotten had come along with him.

He hoisted it up from the bottom-most shelf and looked closely at it. It was clad in mahogany leather, the spine and cover adorned with golden words. He'd read it on occasion when studying it for Religion classes, but he hadn't properly read it since he was only 10 years old and enrolled in a local private school. On its cover were only six simple words—Holy Bible: New King James Edition.

He ran his hand along the side as he remembered the times he spent listening to prayers and psalms and lessons about the stories in The Good Book, and yet at the same time how unfortunate it was that they had instilled in him the idea of the Fire and Brimstone Jehovah before he was finally put in normal academia. He remembered his time being read that stupid _Left Behind: The Kids_ in third grade that put the fear of Apocalypse into him only for him to laugh at it years later as he studied more on the origins of the concepts in the story.

But maybe, for the first time in years, maybe there was something he could find in there that could at least _help_ ease his panic.

He opened it up and began scrolling through, skipping the Old Testament and headed right for the Psalms in a vain hope that something there could ease him. Nothing. Onto the New Testament; he flipped past the Apostles, thinking that nothing Christ could say would be of any help in this matter. He remembered there was something he had read in Second Corinthians years ago that had left a faint stamp on his memory. Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4—there it was, verses 16 to 18:

 _"Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory,_ _while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal."_

He stopped on that last word before going back to the beginning and reading the verses again in a desperate hope for enlightenment. The words written down he understood, but they didn't seem to have any effect on him; no calmness to be found here, no peace to be scoped out. It was nothing. He snapped shut the book after another two reads and tossed it into his sheets, returning to the act of cradling his head in his heads.

"So much for the Good Book consoling one in a time of crisis," he muttered to himself as his stomach grumbled in tandem. He glanced up into morning sky through his window.

He would have been more surprised if something divine _had_ happened at that exact moment.

"I've heard of damning silence, but this is ridiculous. Fuck it, I'm getting breakfast."

* * *

By the time the clamor of the cafeteria crowds reached his ears as he passed through the swinging doors, his stomach and head were in full rebellion. The sun was rising ever higher, the sky growing brighter outside. Between the left side of his head throbbing from a caffeine migraine and hunger cramps if he had been a man of ever slightly less composure he might have been snappy and aggravated. Instead, he opted to fill his mug and grab a pair of chocolate chip muffins and a pair of sausage links.

"Well, hey there, Bunny-girl."

Jacob unconsciously rolled his eyes. _Fucking Cardin._

As usual Cardin and the rest of Team CRDL seemed to be scoping out potential targets to bully, avoiding JNPR and RWBY like the plague. Jaune's blackmail impasse had held them at bay fortunately, and word was that Cardin was looking for some way to get back at Jaune outright.

Jacob's gaze now met the offending asshole, and sure enough he was picking on Velvet again. Even after Coco's chili powder trick Cardin hadn't taken a hint like he should have and instead decided to double-down on the poor rabbit Faunus. Today Cardin and his goonies had encircled her seat and were now playing with her food, like immature school children— _then again,_ he thought, _even children don't act this asinine_ _for piss-poor reasons._

Now, canonically, the only other major contribution Cardin was supposed to provide to the plot was to be Pyrrha's punching bag in the following episode _Extracurricular_ , but after that everything was in the air; The only problem was that the rest of Team CFVY had indicated that this was their fight and they would only call him to battle in the event things got out of hand. He snorted through his nose as he watched them, Velvet keeping as straight a face as she could all the while her shoulders tensed up like a rattlesnake looking for a jugular to sink its teeth into. Even as Cardin flipped a dollop of mashed potatoes on her nose, she made no effort to react. Jacob fumed in impotent rage as he watched on.

"I haven't even seen you fight once," Cardin snidely chortled in her face, "How _do_ you even fight, you use your tiny bunny fists?" A collective chuckle reverberated from them.

Jacob felt his grip on the lunch tray tighten. If only Cardin now that kind of ass-whooping she could and would let loose during the Battle of Beacon...

Cardin's hand maneuvered to her left ear, but instead of his expected brutish yank he gently pinched her ear, ticking the inside of the ear with his middle finger.

Velvet bristled and seemed to tense up.

Jacob felt his anger rise. He started to move towards her, only to be stopped by her gaze. She shook her head. _"I've got it under control,"_ it seemed to say, _"don't worry about me."_

Jacob hummed and hawed as he wanted to smack them all over the top of their heads with his tray and shove one of his muffins down Cardin's throat. Whatever he was doing, Cardin knew that he was getting a rise out of her.

"Jacob!"

Jacob just barely pulled his head out from the fog of anger when he found himself in a vice grip from behind. Without warning, he was hoisted into the air; as if hearing her voice hadn't tipped him off to who it was now hoisting him up like a duffel bag.

"Easy, Nora," he choked out through the pain radiating across his torso, "That's my ribcage!"

"Sorry." She let go of him, his meal nearly hitting the floor as he stumbled on impact.

"Sorry I was late out of bed," he said.

"Everyone was so worried about you last night," she said as he turned around and looked at her, an unusual look of concern on the bubbly bruiser's face. "When RWBY came back they said you'd passed out after the fight!"

Actually," Jacob said as he sighed in thought, "I was wondering about just that; how the hell did I get back to my dorm?"

"I carried you back, actually. Well, with some help from Vulkan."

Mark Strong's strong baritone voice.

Jacob wheeled on the spot, a muffin rolling off the plate and nearly off the tray with the force of the act.

Walking down the lunch table aisles, clad in a blue polo shirt and tan cargo pants not unlike his own, was a very familiar man. On the one hand Jacob's mind flashed back to the previous night, and the memory of having dinner with him and his wife.

On the other hand, as the man walked towards them, Jacob's mind couldn't help but imagine him walking towards him and Nora in the armor of the Ultramarines... as well as being rendered far more realistically rather than the animesque style of RWBY.

"Are you alright," asked Titus, the Captain of the Ultramarines 2nd Company.

"...Yes," Jacob said as his mind slowly processed the sitution. Jacob felt that under different circumstances he should have taken a knee and made the Sign of the Aquila. "Thank you... Titus, for that." Not considering the fact that two of his current favorite universes had just collided in a spectacular metaphorical car crash, Jacob was more than aware of the reality of his situation; he was more than aware that he stood in the presence of a demigod, a son of Roboute Guilliman, a veteran of so many battles and encounters with Chaos and aliens that Jacob could not even begin to match those conflicts in number or even stakes if it took him the rest of his life. To the people of the Imperium, he was an extension of the God Emperor's Wrath, a defender of the Realm of Ultramar and a slayer of the foulness that writhes across the Milky Way Galaxy. Hell, Jacob had before then played the _Space Marine_ game so much that he could almost remember the entire plot of the game beginning to end, all the way from the Ork Waagh that charged onto Forge World Graia—with Titus clearing the way for Thunderhawks to land like the biggest badass that side of the Eye of Terror—all the way to his incarceration with the Inquisition.

"You also have Vulkan to thank," said another voice, this one female. Titus shifted and revealed from behind his back another individual: the brown hair up in a short ponytail immediately struck a chord as Miranda Nero of the Cadia Shock Troops walked up. Jacob couldn't help but notice now that he saw it in its entirety that for casual clothing her outfit wasn't unlike Bradford's in the first _XCOM_ game. A green sweater the color of Cadian flak armor conservatively covered her torso as she sported cargo pants of her own with what seemed to be dark brown cowboy boots beneath the cuffs of the legs. Jacob also couldn't help but notice the wedding bands on both of them that even at a distance he noticed seemed to be their opposite symbols: The Cadian Gate on Titus' band, and the Ultramarine badge on her's.

 _Titus and Mira are married... fucking A, the fanfiction material just keeps on coming..._

Mira chuckled, no doubt at Jacob's expression which he felt was one of shock or at the very least mild panic. "Well come on," she said with a sweet chuckle and a faint British accent, "Not all of us have had a proper breakfast yet it seems."

Jacob and Nora were quickly led off towards RWBY and JNPR's newly-combined table; in the aftermath of the Food Fight Glynda had insisted that the two teams be separated out of concerns for property damage. It was Jacob, however, who put the bug in Ozpin's ear that perhaps it should be contained within a singular table, so at the least it wouldn't get out of hand. It wasn't exactly a fool-proof concept, with enough holes to make Swiss cheese look complete, but Ozpin suggested it to RWBY and JNPR while he had been down at the gun range one morning. The next meal he had found the tables in that state.

Jacob walked up to the table and was relieved to find them all there. On the far end from him sat Ruby and Yang, chowing down on a plate of waffles. Across from them were Jaune and Pyrrha, both working on an omelet; Jacob couldn't help but notices the clear smile on Pyrrha's face as she was eating with Jaune. Weiss and Blake were working on plates of fruit and eggs, while Ren had a massive stack of pancakes sitting in front of him, an empty seat next to him indicating where Nora was earlier.

And there, at the foot of the table between Weiss and Ren, was a steel fold-up chair, a "JM" marked on the backrest in the silhouette of an Aquila.

"Hey, hey, what's all this? You kids eating without me?"

His comments drew everyone's attention, several eyes lighting up in relief. Ruby bolted to her feet and quickly embraced him in her closest attempt at a bear hug.

"Jeez, Ruby," Jacob said with a laugh as he returned the hug, "What's with all of the bear hugs, you act like you haven't seen me in weeks!"

"I'm just happy you're alright," she squeaked in excitement. "When you passed out we were all worried that you'd hit your head or something, so we had you looked at by the nurses and they say you were fine and that it may be shock—"

"Ruby," Jacob began as the pounding in his head began to grow, "ease up. I haven't had morning tea yet."

Ruby let go just as Yang came up and slugged him in the shoulder. "Those were some ballsy moves last night," she said with a grin. "Going for the knees wasn't exactly what I would have done myself, but..."

"Yeah, well, the bigger they are the harder they fall and all that," Jacob said as he set down his tray at his spot at the table and offered her a handshake. He turned and looked over at Jaune, only to be met with a concerning image: Jaune was sporting what were obviously bags under his eyes.

"Whoa, Jaune, you okay bud?"

Jaune blinked harshly as he visibly tried to wake up. "H-huh? Oh, uh sorry," he said groggily, "it's nothing. Just a bad dream last night."

 _...What the hell are those odds,_ Jacob thought to himself as he nodded in understanding. Without a warning though, he found himself in a tight, warm embrace from Pyrrha, who was holding on to him closely. "We're just glad you're okay," she said as she nestled her head into the crook of his neck.

Jacob did not hesitate to return the hug in kind. Somehow, that headache was feeling far more tolerable than before.

And then Warhammer 40k barged into the moment.

"Well now," Captain Titus said with a laugh, "and what about us?"

Jacob turned around in confusion as he noticed Titus' arms were open in an offer of a hug.

And then Pyrrha said four words he never thought he would hear from her:

"Uncle Titus, Aunt Mira!"

Jacob felt the blood leave his face for the fourth or fifth time in 24 hours as Pyrrha let go of their hug and embraced the Ultramarine in a laughing hug. _UNCLE Titus!? AUNT Mira!?_

"How's our little Champion," Titus asked as he chuckled, Mira joining in the group hug.

Jacob slowly turned and looked at Jaune, his eyes wide as dinnerplates. Jaune simply shrugged and smiled.

As Jacob continued to watch as reality acted like Ahriman had decided to go on a bender and bring the Warp to the Materium, Pyrrha laughed and said, "I didn't know you guys were in Vale! What brought you here?"

"Well of course we were going to watch our niece compete in the Vytal Festival for the school we graduated from," Mira said with a laugh as she gently held Pyrrha's hands in her own.

"Oh, it's so good to see you guys," Pyrrha said as she hugged her... "aunt" again.

"But, more than that," Titus began, "I'm also here on Ozpin's request. I am to act alongside Professor Goodwitch and Professor Cain for your Dueling class."

"That's great," Pyrrha said as Jacob slowly took a seat and tried to process this new information. "Mother will love hearing that I'm training under you again."

"Ah-buh-buh-buh, let's keep that on the down-low until she and your father get here, Okay?"

Pyrrha giggled. "Right, of course." She turned and looked to the other Huntsmen and Huntresses in their little team. "Oh, sorry guys. Everyone, this is my uncle Titus and my aunt Mira."

"We met last night, actually," Weiss said matter-of-factly as she finished her last apple slice. "Ruby, Jacob and I had dinner with them at a local place before that ruffian Torchwick decided to go on his rampage."

"Yes," Titus began as he pulled another metal chair and sat it beside Jacob's right side, putting the Terran at unease as the Ultramarine sat down in the chair in reverse; the very idea of Titus using the "Edgy Backwards Chair-Sitting" trope would have normally given him a solid chuckle or two. "Meeting a Schnee was not something I had expected," he began he leaned forwards, "But in comparison to that lout who is your father you seem to have at least far more honor and courage than he ever could." At the same time, Mira had pulled another chair and was now sitting opposite of Titus on Jacob's left side, albeit normally.

Weiss simply blushed and giggled as she soaked in the flattery.

Jacob decided to let them all talk while he went ahead and caught up on breakfast. The muffin tasted good on the palate and when down smoothly when hit with a chaser of tea, and the sausage was carrying with it a hint of maple-wood smoke to its flavor. Small and quick, but he couldn't pretend that it didn't hit the spot just right, as well as gie him something to focus on as

The two teams chatted with the Imperials with ease as Jacob listened in. Just as he finished his muffin he was spared the confusion considering Pyrrha and the Ultramarine Captain; turns out that they were not related by blood, but rather by godfathership. Supposedly her father and Titus were longtime friends even before Beacon—leading Jacob to ponder how a Space Marine got into a Huntsman Academy and just how old the Astartes _really_ was—and had kept in touch. When they both got married, they apparently agreed to act as godfathers to each other's kids should something happen to them. So, basically, it was less of an uncle-niece relationship and more of a godfather-goddaughter one.

Captain Titus of the Ultramarines was the Sirius Black to Pyrrha Nikos' Harry Potter.

"I really wish I were 21 right now," Jacob said as he made a concerted effort to stealthily cradle his head in his hands.

"So, you guys are gonna be working with Professor Goodwitch?"

"Actually, Mr. Arc," Mira began, "Titus will, despite my insistence to Ozpin that I join as well; Glynda and I have a good history with one another, but he insisted that I help out Professor Port in his class." The disappointed huff she finished her sentence with sent a laugh around the table.

"I didn't know that," Pyrrha said with a giggle. "Were you classmates?"

"Partners, actually."

That raised Jacob's eyebrows; Glynda Goodwitch and Miranda Nero on the same team?

"You guys were in a Team together?"

Mira beamed. "Team MNGO; didn't I ever tell you?"

Pyrrha shook her head. Mira made a soft hum of contemplation.

"Was Professor Goodwitch always as high-strung as she is now?" Yang asked with a snide smile on her face.

Titus and Mira chuckled. "High-strung? She was the wildest and most laid-back of my entire team."

Titus leaned in. "If anything, both Mira and I were nearly as high-strung as she is now."

"Oh? How bad was she?" Ruby asked the Imperial Guard Lieutenant.

"...Very." A chuckle and a blush from Mira told Jacob everything he needed to know.

Most everyone caught on too; Yang and Blake manage to hold in snickers by the skin of their teeth, Weiss was blushing and looking in all honesty fairly shell-shocked, and Ruby's eyes were as wide as the barrel of a Heavy Bolter and her cheeks were the same color as the red ruffle of her combat skirt.

 _So much for "innocent" Ruby Rose everyone thought was canonical,_ Jacob thought to himself.

JNPR wasn't faring much better; Jaune's jaw was reaching for the floor and Ren was blinking and shaking his head in an obvious attempt to blot out the image in his mind. Meanwhile, Pyrrha seemed to be in shock as a massive blush crossed her face as well, and Nora was just barely holding in a humongous laugh of her own, looking like a bubble that was ready to pop.

"Well, I didn't need to know that," Weiss said as she got up and began to walk away to deposit her tray. Ren was quick to follow her, and soon Blake and Nora had followed suit, leaving Jaune, Pyrrha, Ruby, and Yang to remain with them.

"I never in my wildest dreams would have imagined that," Jaune said after a minute. "I don't know how to actually feel about that bit of info."

"Trust me, Mr. Arc," Titus began, reaching out and patting him on the shoulder, "It was something to behold."

Jacob on the other hand was still too busy contemplating this all; Now they were talking about being classmates with Glynda, and last night they mentioned being friends with Team STRQ? What the hell was going on!?

"Well," Pyrrha began, "it's certainly enlightening. But I do have to wonder what happened between then and now to make her... well, _herself."_

"Age, Pyrrha," Mira said, "age is what happened. Her flings got far less frequent as her Huntress duties grew and grew; by the time our team graduated she maybe had one flame that she kept in contact with just as Titus and I decided to start dating."

"Ah, childhood sweethearts," Pyrrha said as she clasped her hands to her chest, "I never get tired of hearing _that_ story." Across the way Yang snickered at the Mistrali Huntress, only to receive a scowl from Pyrrha in return. The two Imperials chuckled as Jacob watched from his sandwiched spot between them, unsure of how to proceed with the situation.

"Well," Ruby said as she looked up at the clock over the entryway of the cafeteria, "I was nice to see you again, Mr. Ultramar, but classes start up in a half hour and we don't want to be late."

Titus gave them an understanding smile. "It's quite alright," he said, "I wouldn't want Ozpin thinking lowly of you for being late just to talk to us."

The four native Remnantine Huntsman and Huntresses got up, Yang offering a handshake to Titus. "Yeah," she said, "It's a real pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise to you, Ms. Xiao Long. If your father gives you a call, tell him I said hi."

Jaune also shook hands with the Guardswoman and the Ultramarine, clearly making a good impression on them both. With another hug and a peck on the cheek from Mira—that seemed to embarrass Pyrrha a little judging by the faint tinge of scarlet to her cheeks—they began to head out.

Jacob began to get up, only to feel a strong hand hold his shoulder. He froze in place in mild panic; if Titus was still a tried-and-true, biologically-enhanced Space Marine, he could snap Jacob like a gorilla could snap a twig if he moved wrong.

And something told him that he was in big trouble.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Uh, I have class as well, sir—"

"Hey, Jacob," sounded off Yang from 20 feet away, "you coming or what?"

"Sorry kids, Mr. Muller has medical leave for the day," Mira said as she joined her husband's side. "Ozpin's orders after last night."

All four of them shared a look of concern as they stared back at Jacob, a bombardment of worry cast in silver, violet, emerald green and sapphire blue felt the farthest from reassured to Jacob.

"It's alright guys," he said a bit shakily, "Ozpin's orders are Ozpin's orders. I'll catch you guys later."

One by one they turned, Yang being the last one to turn away as she seemed to worry about him.

Honestly, she wasn't the only one worried for his safety.

"Now then, Mr. Muller," Mira said, putting her hand on his other shoulder, "Let's talk."

Jacob felt his stomach clench up. He turned around to look at them, the dread in his heart making him fear for his very existence. Jacob took a deep breath as he physically steeled himself for the oncoming discussion. The smiles they had worn a minute ago now had a visible edge of wariness behind them, as if expecting him to spring up and turn into a Daemon Prince.

"Uhm, what do you mean," he asked in an attempt to play dumb.

"Considering what you said last night," Titus said, "you're hardly fooling anyone at this juncture."

Jacob swallowed hard. "Fair enough... Captain Titus," he said quietly, offering them the gestures of his hands laying across one another with the thumbs hooked to one another and bent at the tips—the Sign of the Aquila.

They both nodded slowly and offered their own in return.

Jacob had no doubts that these two were the real deal. "I know this may seem odd, but I just want to let you know that I'm not actually—"

"We know you're not from The Imperium, which honestly confuses us even more."

Jacob felt his heartbeat jump a couple beats a minute in speed. "W-What are you talking about," he said shakily, still pulling the "play dumb" card.

The two of them rifled through their pockets, Titus reaching into his breast pocket and Mira into her cargo pants.

When they pulled their hands out, they revealed his Lady Commissar and Jump Pack Chapter Master in their hands. Neither said a thing, but rather simply gave him looks—an arched eyebrow from Mira and an unamused stare from Titus—in response.

"Explain—"

"Now."

Jacob felt his stomach retreat to the polar ice caps with how clenched it was at the moment.

"Right... those... shit."

* * *

It had been a long time since Cinder Fall was this intrigued by something so mundane as a school boy; Considering her current line of work, such things were hardly a blip on her radar. She was infiltrating a Huntsman Academy to find and kill a Maiden—or at least end her—and locate a Relic of the Old Gods, such trivial matters were hardly worth her time and attention.

And yet... that Muller boy seemed to be getting into all kinds of situations. First, he's the one at the docks that killed that Faunus boy, then he's there to help that team of little girls fight Roman and Eliphas. Now, Mr. Muller was picking a fight with a school bully to protect a Faunus girl he seemed to know.

"How interesting..."

"Cinder?"

Her lackey's question drew her from her thoughts. "Oh, it's nothing. Emerald," she replied as she turned back to the pair of children that now followed her whims like obedient dogs.

The powers of a demigoddess and a slowly-growing army at her disposal. Oh, how it felt to be on top of the world... Well, under Salem of course.

Emerald glowered. "It's him again, isn't it?"

Cinder couldn't help but giggle darkly at her reaction. Emerald was attached to her like a little lost puppy who just found itself a master, and to watch her squirm like that made for an entertaining pass time.

"He's a Lone Wolf," Mercury said from behind a mouthful of scrambled egg. "These guys are practically designed for the limelight."

"That may be," Cinder replied, "but most Lone Wolves don't get as invested in other teams, and most teams don't want to get involved with them."

Emerald cocked an eyebrow in confusion. "What are you talking about, Cinder? Everyone seems fine around him."

"That's because this is Vale," Cinder replied as she raised a manicured finger in reply. "In Vacuo and Atlas, Lone Wolves are far fewer, mainly because they're usually unrulier. Mistral has much more, but they end up sticking to themselves or forming teams of their own in time. Mr. Muller has yet to do either of those things, _and_ furthermore has attached himself to not only one, but _two_ other teams. "

Emerald and Mercury both picked up on her tone: _Good, they're learning fast._ The pair leaned in closer as Mercury said, "You think there's some shenanigans going on here?"

Cinder smirked and produced her own stolen and reprogrammed Scroll, the frame a deep crimson red in comparison to the usual pale white versions most students were issued. "Watts just finished pulling all of Beacon's files," she murmured lowly, attempting to look no different from the gossiping masses of teenagers that surrounded them. "Notice something?"

Emerald took the Scroll and began filing through, her gaze drilling into the scrolling mass of student information. After a few seconds Cinder could see Jacob's ID image swipe into view. Emerald held for a few seconds, her eyes repeating the same movements over and over again.

"Where's his information?"

"Exactly," Cinder said as she leaned forward.

"No city of birth, there's a date of birth but no certificate to declare it, no hospital records... his nation of origin is, '[REDACTED]'?!"

Mercury leaned back and grunted. "So, he's not from The Kingdoms, big whoop. I don't have any of that information either and Lionheart was able to fake all that stuff—"

A smack over the head from Emerald shut him up quickly.

"But Ozpin didn't."

"Maybe Ozpin's getting more complacent than we thought," Emerald replied.

Cinder didn't pay the idea any creedence. "Then explain Mr. Muller's disdainful reaction to us. How many times have we caught him glaring daggers at us when we have been in the same class as him?"

"What does that have to do with anything," Mercury asked. "Maybe he just doesn't like us."

Cinder felt the urge to grip her nose bridge swell within her. At the same time, a heat rose in her chest, forcing her to breathe harder than normal.

Even now, the Fall Maiden fought back against Cinder taking what was rightfully hers. How pathetic.

"Considering his familiarity with our allies, I highly doubt that."

Emerald studied Cinder for a long minute, clearly trying to get a feel for what the new Fall Maiden was saying. _Good girl,_ Cinder thought, _intuitiveness will get you far in this world._

The gears clicked together, forcing Emerald's eyes to go as wide as the moon. "You think he's working with Ozpin?"

Cinder grinned. "I've taught you well," she smugly cooed, "you figured out exactly what I was thinking. I have reason to believe that Mr. Muller may be part of The Inquisition."

"A student in the Inquisition?" Mercury's tone along with his raised eyebrow spoke volumes of what he was pondering.

"Yes, one who clearly learned too much for his own good."

Emerald and Mercury stared at one another with worried looks. "What happens if he figures out the truth?"

"No need to worry, Emerald," Cinder said with a laugh as she reveled in her and Salem's combined brilliance. Dr. Watts has collaborated with Professor Lionheart on a practically ironclad alibi. Even if Mr. Muller did rat on us, there's nothing he could do." She took a sip from her glass of water, faintly wishing it had been a glass of wine or even a solid margarita. _To be 24 and passing as a student six years younger is starting to wear on my nerves._

The heat flared up again. Cinder sipped some more water and closed her eyes as she quelled the turmoil. While the Maiden's power gave her access to all elements, Cinder focused primarily on fire and its manipulation; the only downside was that when the power acted rebellious to her, these heat flares would keep happening. Eventually she would begin to train herself to use the others, but for now the raw, destructive power of fire called her more than anything else, and that meant also dealing with the perils and pitfalls of her ascended status.

But the heat was still aggravating, and Cinder wanted to finally get it under her control.

The heat died back down, and the Maiden's power returned to its slumber.

"Although," Cinder said as she pondered the matter a second time around, "perhaps it would be prudent of us to keep an eye on him. In fact, a good idea would be to have ourselves a nice list of the biggest threats to our operation. Jot him down as the first name in the matter."

Emerald nodded before turning her gaze back to the crimson Scroll. A few buttons pressed later and the deed was done; a new list of priority targets had begun to take form.

"Excellent," Cinder said as Emerald returned the Scroll.

"And what about those... what were they called again? The big guys, I mean."

Cinder's smirk became a shadow of itself at Mercury's comment. Of course, she had forgotten about the men Eliphas had warned her about. They could also pose a threat to the whole operation. Regardless, Eliphas and his companions told her not to worry about the matter, ergo she needn't waste her time worrying.

"'The Loyalists' in Ozpin's Inquisition are the concern of Eliphas and the rest of The Eightfold Path," she said calmly, "however, should they request our assistance in the matter we will move to collaborate further. For now, they will continue to aid the White Fang and Torchwick's men and we will continue to undermine the primary body of The Inquisition. Do I make myself clear?"

Emerald seemed to shrink away a bit, bowing her head a bit as if a puppy fearing to be struck. "Of course, Cinder."

The sense of satisfaction slowly began to creep back into her mind. "Good. Now, perhaps it would be prudent of us to actually eat; can't _study up_ on an empty stomach, right?"

* * *

The skies over Vale had been clear all morning, the bright sun coasting through the azure skies. The summer heat was finally beginning to come down as the ever-creeping chill of fall inched towards the present. The early monsoon had brought rain in abundance, most days sporting at the bare minimum some cloud cover, yet today for the first time in a month there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

It was as if The Emperor Himself gazed down on this first formal meeting of two realities... or three, rather.

Jacob had half-expected that the entirety of the Imperial population on Remnant would descend upon him, and he also half-expected it would only be Mira and Titus. By some manner of fortune, the latter proved to be the order of the day. The trio had set up a table in the corner of the outdoor patio, away from the main doors so as to not be intruded upon and set up beneath a deep blue umbrella so as to not bake in the summer sun. All three had some manner of drink in hand, Lieutenant Mira sporting a Beacon Academy mug with a strong coffee inside, Titus finding kinship with Jacob in the form of a mug of tea, and Jacob himself sporting his tumbler with enough brew to keep him running for half a day. Between them, a Lord Commissar and a Chapter Master sat in stony silence, nothing more than plastic and acrylic paint to play a game with.

A tense silence hung over the air as the two parties sat face-to-face.

"...Really," Titus said after a long minute of even more silence, all of his incredulity manifesting in a single raised eyebrow.

"...Yes, sir." Jacob replied, his left arm tucked between him and the arm of the wireframe chair beneath him as his right handreached for a satin tag on the inside bottom of his shirt to fidget with.

The ambient noise of the campus took over again. Titus leaned back and looked to Mira, who's eyes were boring into Jacob like a hawk's eyes.

Jacob piecemealed together the reaction. "You don't believe me," he offered.

No reply from either.

Jacob let out a massive and tired sigh. "I don't blame you," he said, "I was sick to my stomach this morning when I put two and two together... and realized all that's implied by this."

Titus pinched the bridge of his nose and seemed to tense up, as if shunning the urge to sigh or groan. Mira leaned forwards, a skeptical look in her eyes.

"So, let me get this straight," she began slowly, "You mean to tell us that you are from Terra— _Holy Terra_ —in the _3_ _rd_ _Millennium_."

Jacob nodded. "2017, to be precise."

"But not _our_ Terra," she continued, moving her hand as if to pick up something from above, " _another version_ of Terra where our reality... is a work of fiction for a tabletop strategy game."

 _Well,_ he thought, _when you put it like that, it sounds stupid and contrived, but..._

"Yes. Warhammer 40,000 we call it, or just 40k for some people."

Mira stared at him for a second before cradling her head with a sigh and moan mixed together.

Titus leaned back in beside the Guardswoman, the skeptical eyebrow returning. "How do we know you are telling us the truth?"

Jacob's answer was simple as he reached into his backpack; for some reason when he had packed up his book today he had the nagging urge to re-read everything he could on the various characters of 40k. He produced the 7th Edition Space Marine Codex and the 6th Edition Imperial Guard Codex, slapping them down in front of their respective individuals and then quickly reached in and grabbed the Chaos Marines Codex. A small part of him wondered why the only models he had ended up with were his Imperials; in truth, he had started a small force of Alpha Legion Marines two months before he was whisked away to Remnant, a force that was heavy on HQs mainly for the purpose of putting the Many Heads of the Hydra rule to good use.

The two Imperials stared at the book for a second, then to themselves, then back again. Titus hesitantly picked up the Space Marine Codex and began flipping through, Mira gingerly going through her Codex in turn. Jacob sat back and watched as the pages flipped and their eyes grew wider.

" _Now_ do you believe me?"

The two looked up at him, mouths slightly ajar in shock.

"By the Emperor," Mira muttered as she leaned back in her wireframe chair. Titus moved and carefully held her hand in his without ever looking away from Jacob, the movements seeming like second nature to the duo.

"Okay then," Jacob said with another huff, "do you want me to give you guys a few minutes to process this all or do you want to immediately dive into the literal FAQ you probably have for me?"

Titus held up his hand as if to stop him. Jacob didn't need to be a neurosurgeon to know where Titus was going with that, quickly nodding to affirm the Ultramarine's decision. "However long you need," Jacob muttered softly as he leaned back and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his videos and movies mindlessly. All the while, Mira seemed to be fighting back a classic panic attack, her breathing seemingly getting louder and sharper, her grip on Titus' hand visibly increasing.

Some logical part of Jacob's mind was screaming at the current situation like a hurricane. Here he was, bog-standard human Jacob Muller from Earth, sitting across from two heroes of the eternal warfare of the Grimdark Future, and yet he was the one who was the calmest at this junction; How!? These two had stared down six to seven-foot-tall Orks and all kinds of breeds of Chaos—not to mention whatever else Titus had fought during his doubtless _centuries_ of service before becoming a Captain of one of the most prestigious chapters in the Imperium—and yet _they_ were having a mental crisis?

And on top of that, there was still that little classic fanboy in the back of his mind having a field day of raw excitement at the prospect of meeting the icons of a 30-year-old franchise _._

Mira shuttered and seemed to relax a bit more again, the panic seeming to retreat from her posture; her shoulders loosened up, her grip in Titus' hand lightened up, and her breathing seemed to even out.

Jacob leaned in with concern. "You okay, ma'am?"

Mira nodded. "Yes," she said, "I just... I don't know what make of this all."

Jacob gave her an understanding look. "You wouldn't be the first one; Coming to Remnant put me in an existential crisis at first, and just this morning realizing that you guys were... well, _the real deal_ , I had a second crisis. I'm pretty certain that's partially why I'm not freaking out as much as I really should be."

Titus looked up, his eyes bright with some unspoken thought. "You speak of Remnant as if you've seen it before," he said. "And judging by the fact that Vulkan said you were aware of Salem's existence that means that you're aware of the greater world of Remnant."

Jacob felt his stomach flip and the rebuttal halt in this throat; He had already compromised so much information just through some minor interactions and he hadn't even realized it. He put his left arm up and leaned in on his hand in exasperation with himself. "so much for 'knowledge is power,'" he chided to himself, all the while scratching his temple with his fingers.

"So then I take it Remnant is also a fictitious world to you," Titus deduced without a hint of hesitation.

Jacob looked up at him. "...Yes," he finally said, feeling as though his plan was shattering like struck glass. "Damn, that didn't take you long at all to _completely_ _shatter_ my façade. Okay, listen," he began, leaning in, "I wasn't expecting to also tell you this—hell, I never expected _any_ of this—but... in my world the world of Remnant is the setting for an animation series by a group called Rooster Teeth—particularly this one guy named Monty Oum created it. And that series' name is... well... _RWBY."_

The silence swept away their conversation again. For around five seconds, they both stared at him, the gears clicking away as Jacob felt the urge to fidget with his tag again.

" _RWBY..._ as in Ms. Rose, or her team?"

Jacob felt the urge to balk at Titus' reaction. "Uhh, her team—the team's name is the title," he replied.

"...So, that's how you also knew about our goddaughter and her team as well, right?"

"Wow, you are just a regular detective, Captain; then again, as a geneseed-son of Roboute Guilliman, I would expect no less from you. But... yes. Team JNPR is the deuterogamist team of the show."

Mira cradled her face and began muttering something that sounded vaguely like bastardized Latin.

"Here's your proof, if you're actually interested," he said, carting out his phone and pulling up the episode in which he dropped in, _Players and Pieces._

The two gingerly held his smartphone and stared down at the tiny screen. For a few minutes he sat there, nervously drumming his fingers on the table. They set the phone down on the table a minute after the telltale cry of "Let's hit it with everything we've got" from Yang left the speakers and watched the whole way through, their eyes glued to it.

With Titus' eyes still scanning the scene, Mira looked up and simply said, "Okay, I believe you."

Jacob leaned back as he took a long, deep breath. "So, here's a question on my end," Jacob began hesitantly, not wanting to overstep his bounds. "How in The Emperor's name did you— _all_ of you—get here?"

Mira and Titus both shared a look of concern for a second before Mira answered.

"We all died in service to The Emperor."

That rose both of Jacob's eyebrows. "All of you... _died_ back in the Imperium?"

The nodded in unison. "Titus and I were aboard an Inquisitor's Valkyrie when we were ambushed by a straggler force of damned greenskins."

"Forge World Graia," Jacob said, nodding as he remembered the events of _Space Marine_ ; But Mira never joined Titus onboard the Valkyrie in the game's ending, instead remaining with her Guardsmen regiment while Titus was taken in for questioning by the Ordo Hereticus. "You killed that Chaos Sorcerer Nemeroth just as he started ascending to Daemon Princehood."

Mira looked at him with a scrutinizing eye.

"Yeah, your story was chronicled in a video game from 2011," Jacob replied, "in my opinion the best 40k video game on the market besides the Dawn of War games where Gabriel and the Blood Ravens came from. The funny thing is that the game ended with only Titus getting on the Valkyrie, and you remained with your regiment... or at least what remained."

Titus looked thoughtfully into the sky. "Perhaps by the Emperor's Will our fates were changed."

"Or some fourth-dimensional Warp-fuckery," Jacob mumbled under his breath, "both are equal culprits really. But, here's the really confusing bit, your teammates; How did the Forgefather of the Salamanders, the Great Wolf of the _Vylka Fenrika_ and the Chapter Master of The Blood Ravens die? As of the most recent events in canon, they're supposed to all still be alive." Jacob felt a drop of sweat trickle down the back of his neck, congratulating him for not once mentioning the Fall of Cadia or Guilliman's rebirth. Their worlds were already rocky and cracking as it was, no need to add one's geneseed-progenitor waking up and the other's world getting rammed by a Blackstone Fortress to their list of mindfucks today.

"Well," Titus began, "I would prefer that you ask them on their own; I am not one to divulge the secrets of my friends with their say-so."

Jacob huffed and nodded. "Fair enough," he replied. "But then that also leaves me with another question. If you died in the Milky Way at whatever age you were, how is it that you are part of a team with the other Astartes," he said as he pointed to Titus, "and you were on a team with Glynda Goodwitch?"

"When we arrived," Mira said, shifting in her chair, "We had become much younger. When I first awoke, I was met with the image of an ten-year-old boy trapped in Astartes Power Armor." At the mention of the boy she started giggling and was clearly holding back a laugh

"And I was met with the image of an eight-year-old brunette girl stumbling forwards in boot, fatigues and a set of flak armor far too large for her," Titus replied as a chuckle wormed its way through that sentence.

Jacob's brow rose high again. "You guys _physically regressed_ back into kids?"

They both nodded as they wound down their laughter. "Afterwards we were taken up by a local orphanage on the outskirts of Vale," Titus said. "Not long afterwards we met Gabriel and Vulkan, and by the time we were in Beacon we had established a small network of other Imperials spread across Remnant through CCT codes that only Imperials would understand."

"Beacons for Imperials to follow," Jacob deduced. "Nice. So, wait, that means that, if you were regressed to ten years old... you're no longer an Astartes proper—the training's still there, but your geneseeds are MIA—right?"

"Exactly."

"Huh. So you're a completely normal human—albeit with several centuries of combat training and a physical boost from your Aura. Cool. So, what did you do with your Power Armor?"

"Hid it for a few years, now we store it away at home or we take it in our personal ship."

At the words "personal ship" Jacob had the strangest idea what it was they were talking about. "No way," he said with a grin. "It came through too?"

Titus and Mira both smiled. "Indeed. Took us 4 years and a ton of tinkering to fix her, but she's all ours now."

Jacob chuckled at the idea of an Imperial Guard Valkyrie thundering past any Bullhead in the skies. "I'd love to see her fly." Just then, something occurred to him. "You've been remarkably alright with divulging this information to me, despite the fact that for all you know I could be an agent of Salem or of the Chaos Gods. Why?"

Titus leaned in closely, Jacob's phone in his hand. "Because a member of Salem's cabal would have an underlying malice to them," he said in a low tone, "and a servant of Chaos—even one like The Deciever—would act outright mad and no doubt try to convert people. I see no malice in you, Mr. Muller, not like I have seen in any of those of the Eightfold Path, and you certainly carry no darkness in your eyes as one might see in an agent of Salem."

Golden eyes and raven black hair crossed Jacob's mind. _Has he figured out Cinder?_

"Speaking of the agents of Chaos," Jacob realized, "I have to wonder if the Dark Gods sent Eliphas here... and judging by the fact you mentioned a group, he's not the only one."

"There are a few others, we can bring you up to speed later," Mira said, "But our classes start up in a half hour and, well, these students still need training." At the same time, Titus handed him his smartphone, gripping it by the base.

Jacob took back his phone and began to put it away before a thought crossed his mind. They were now believing his story and were currently the only people who did now the truth about him. At that he could just stop there and just keep them in confidentiality with that knowledge alone.

But that image of Pyrrha hugging the Ultramarine and the Guardswoman, their smile so bright and happy, Pyrrha's laughter ringing in his mind...

 _Fuck it all, I really shouldn't do this._

"Wait," he said, "before you leave... there's one more thing I should tell you." Jacob took his mug and downed a 4-second long swig of Earl Grey. He paused for a second as they stared at him.

"Before you start asking questions," he murmured lowly, his pulse rising and his stomach fluttering away, "There's another reason why I put myself in this situation. I'm not here on some philanthropic quest for the people of Remnant... at least not directly."

He shuffled through his videos to Volume 3.

"Just before I left, they announced Volume 5 would come out... right about now back home, actually," he said, pausing midway through to look down at his watch for the date: 3 months behind, it was the start of July here— _sonofabitch, I missed the 4_ _th_ _—_ and that meant it was the start of October back home. "Now, Volume 5 is supposed to take place _next_ fall if I understand some of the producers' comments. Volume 4 was about six to eight months from now... but Volume 3 is during the Vytal Festival. And there are several incidents incited by Salem."

Both eyed him warily. "Define 'incidents'," Titus slowly said.

Jacob took a deep breath; it was now or never. "Two separate incursions into Vale with Grimm and White Fang forces," he said, bracing for an outburst. "One a few weeks prior that used underground tunnels from Mountain Glenn, and the other one by all account a full-on invasion force near the end of the Festival that sweeps through the city. They... take out the CCT Tower in search of something."

Titus and Mira both looked to one another, surprise and urgency in their eyes.

"But that's not the only thing. The students join the fight, and they do quite well against both the Grimm and the White Fang... but there are casualties."

He scrolled through the roster, never taking his eyes off of them as the gears whirred into overdrive in both their heads.

He stopped when the episodes in Volume 3 ended.

Chapter 12.

 _The End of the Beginning._

 _"_ Now," he continued, "back home when all of this,"—he held out his hands as if holding a massive box or some other prop of gargantuan size—"was just a show, my favorite character was, in fact, your goddaughter, Pyrrha Nikos. Now, she's been training me and Jaune how to be _actually good_ Huntsmen, and I don't think I could ever repay her enough for that... but she deserves to be spared this."

Jacob slid his phone back after moving the video to 9:00 minutes in.

"I'm training to become a Huntsman because two people in particular whom are well-loved by the fans are killed during the fighting, another one is dismembered... and I want to stop that from happening."

He tapped the play button. Without thinking he squeezed his eyes shut.

 _Grunts and the sound an arrow being loosed._

 _A cracking sound, followed by the very same sound, but reversed._

 _The thwack of an arrow meeting an Achilles tendon._

 _Pyrrha's cry of pain, a sharp gasp joining it_. He felt his pulse racing, his mind tracing the scene as if it were second nature by now.

"No..." The low tones of Mark Strong reached for his ear and found purchase in his heartstrings.

 _Slow violin music as the sound of Pyrrha groaning and the sound of something snapping joined in._

 _"It's unfortunate that you were promised a power that was never truly yours."_

Jacob's hands balled in fury, his heart racing. He could remember the scene... only now in his mind it was in 3-D.

 _"But take comfort in know that I will use it ways you never imagined."_

 _Here it comes..._

 _"Do you believe in destiny?"_

 _"...Yes."_

His eyes were burning, his heart was racing. It had been hard back on Earth—back where such a reaction was stupid and childish and frankly insane—but being here... it was like watching a death warrant being fulfilled.

 _The sound of a bow being drawn._

 _Footsteps. Ruby coming to the rescue. An impact of boot and knee._

 _Thiwsh. The whistle of an arrow. Thwack._

 _Pyrrha's gasp._

The sound of another woman gasping again, barely holding in a scream.

 _Pyrrha's strangled gasps._

Jacob's eyes were magma in his sockets, and the telltale feeling of tears on his cheeks; The floodgates were holding by the skin of their teeth.

 _A searing sound, and the sound of wind. A mourning chorus._

 _"PYRRHAAA—!"_

Jacob reached out for the phone and slammed his hand on the center of the screen. The sound stopped and again silence returned.

Only the sound of ragged, terrified and sorrowful breathing reached his ears.

He slowly opened his eyes, finding his world to be blurred by man-made rain.

Both Imperials were staring horrified at him, Titus mixing in a stare of outrage.

"What... was that?" Titus said, a fury laying beneath his voice.

Jacob was silent for a minute as he forced the waterworks back down his tear ducts as best as he could. "I'm sorry I had to show you that. But... _that_... is why I weaseled my way into Beacon," Jacob said, stuttering and cracking his way through the sentence. "Because I mentally buried her back on Earth... and I don't want to have to bury Pyrrha Nikos for real."

The floodgates began failing. A pair of tears escaped each eye respectively.

"Please," he began. "I was set to do this on my own because I thought I had no allies to go to... because I thought if I changed canon too much any of the rest of them could be in equal or more peril and I couldn't be there to spare them a fate like that."

The floodgates failed in full measure. "They don't deserve a cruelty like that... least of all, a girl like Pyrrha doesn't deserve it..." His breathing was starting to get ragged. His arms were outstretched into the center of the table and he desperately fought the urge to cower with his face behind his hands like a scared child. The deluge burned onwards.

"But I can't do this on my own," he croaked through his tears. "Please."

He felt as though he had cried for minutes on end by now, easily ten if he was right.

He felt warm hands shakily wrap around his own. He looked up.

Across the table, Mira was gripping his hands with her own, the stained warpath of tears evident on her face too.

"How can we help save our goddaughter?"

Jacob was speechless, though he was still sniffing and biting back even more tears. "You believe me?"

"The evidence is right there, why wouldn't we?"

"But for all you know I could be lying, I could have fabricated the video—"

"Those tears are _real,"_ the Cadian replied, "and by The God Emperor no trickster of Chaos could manifest a real tear in his damned heathen life. You're telling the truth; Pyrrha—our goddaughter—is in danger, more so than any Huntress or Huntsman in this school."

Jacob felt his heart slowing as revelation closed on him. He looked up at Titus.

He was met with a skeptical but furious look.

"I can't make heads or tails about this situation," he admitted with a huff, "but if Pyrrha and her friends are in harm's way, then let Salem tremble; This Angel of Death is on the hunt."

Jacob felt elation in his heart; maybe this wasn't such an impossible task after all.

"Courage and Honour, Ultramarine," he said as the burning began to subside. "Thank you."

Mira nodded. "If you'll let us," she began, "We'll tell the rest of our brothers what's going on."

"In all honesty, Mira," Titus replied, "We _should_ instead go to Ozpin."

Jacob felt the shadow of a smile he was wearing rush away. "Uhm, sir," he stuttered through the last remaining sobs, "with all due respect, I don't know if he would interfere with the timeline too much."

Titus looked down, a sarcastic skepticism etched into his strong features. "Then in that case, what would you recommend?"

Whether or not there was supposed to be a biting tone to it or not, Jacob cringed in embarrassment. "Sorry, Captain—"

"—Titus, please—"

"—Right then... _Titus,_ I think our best bet is to keep this among us metaphorical immigrants to this reality; just us and your fellow Imperials. We aren't in the original story, so perhaps we are the best ones to work towards our ultimate goal."

"...I suppose that makes some sense. That gives us my whole team, VLAT, Darnath and his family, Pythol, Amhrad, Dan—"

"Amhrad? Artor Amhrad of the Astral Knights? And that was _the_ Darnath Lysander we met last night, right?"

"Yes, along with his wife, Inquisitor Spinoza, and their daughter Rey."

"Yeah," Jacob said, "I-I recognized Spinoza from the first 40k novel I read, _The Carrion Throne_. She served under Inquisitor Crowl, owned an Imperial Fist crozius, et cetera. I just, well, was kinda surprised he'd be here too; even among fans there are plenty of people who see Captain Lysander as stubborn to the point of being unkillable."

the Ultramarine said with a sigh. "Right. Well, we can discuss this later when class is out, but for now we have classes to attend. Apologies."

Jacob drew his hands in and began to straighten up, the burn of his tears nearly gone. "Right, right," he agreed, voice still cracking a bit, "we still have our duties to attend to. I should be the one apologizing; I've probably fucked up your mood for the day anyhow."

"No, no," Mira said as she too got up, "there's nothing to apologize for. You made a high-risk decision, there's nothing wrong with that. We'll be fine, but will you be?"

Jacob conjured a weak smile. "I, uh, I think so," he said after a few seconds, "I have this odd habit, I can at least on the surface bounce back for a bit. So... I guess it's until we meet again."

In a last gesture, he again laid both of his hands over his chest, the palms directly over one another as he locked thumbs; one more Sign of the Aquila.

" _Ave Imperator._ "

Mira smiled before responding back as hands mirrored the Sign. " _Ave Imperator,_ " she said gently. And with that, the two began to walk away, Titus turning around to watch Jacob as the boy in turn watched the two Imperials walk off towards the classrooms.

Suddenly, things didn't feel so grim.

For a minute, he sat there, assessing his situation.

He was now more or less partners with at the very minimum several of the biggest damn heroes of the Imperium of Man, something he would have never dreamt of in his wildest fever dreams.

Jacob clasped his hands over his head as he weakly smiled.

"Thank you, God..."

Then his ear caught a rustle from some nearby bushes. Not the kind of rustling from the wind blowing through.

More like someone hiding in the bushes had just moved.

It had been off to his left, towards the edge of the mess hall's large patio. There, a trio of—well, what were those odds—juniper bushes.

Jacob turned. A figure darted from the bush and towards the dormitories.

They had heard every word.

What if it was Mercury? What if it was Emerald?

What if it was Cinder?

Jacob didn't have the luxury of letting them go in that case. "Hey! Get back here!"

He took off after them, having to speed after them while trying to awaken his Aura to give him that needed boost. It was awakening too slowly and the person was slowly getting ahead of him. What could he do?

They rounded a corner and Jacob followed suit, finding himself thundering down a walkway outside the main hall where the majority of the classes were. Already most were in-session, leaving th walking path free of hazardous pedestrians.

"Stop!"

His cries didn't stop them outright, but they did seem to slow down. The figure he now noticed was wrapped in a dark green cloak and were running in what looked like either black boots or black pumps judging by the thick soles of their shoes.

 _Emerald,_ he haphazardly deduced, _being Cinder's bitch as usual._

His Aura screamed awake at the mention of her name. His lungs stopped burning and so did his legs. He started gaining on her as the continued forwards, but it was still not enough.

Just then, he realized that whoever it was, they didn't know where they were going. This path along the building led to a dead end at the back of the dormitories... and the only way out was through Jacob.

"Got you know," he hissed venomously.

They both rounded a corner and soon enough Jacob saw his confirmation; nothing but several levels of concrete wall in her path.

They stopped and turned around, a clear look of panic in their posture.

Jacob skidded to a halt 10 feet away. "Give it up," he said, "whatever that information you got, I want that too."

"What information?" A clearly female voice.

And then, a hiccup.

A pale hand shot out and cordially covered the area where the mouth was supposed to be.

"Who are you!? Show yourself!"

Slowly, the figure came to the sad, sad conclusion that there was nowhere to run. "I'm so sorry," the obvious girl said. She reached up and pulled back the hood.

He was met with ginger red hair, blue-green eyes, a pink bow and a cute little ahoge.

And Jacob wondered if his stomach would ever get any semblance of rest.

"...Penny!?"

* * *

 **Whoop, situation just escalated.**

 **Also, I think I just figured out Talking No Jutsu... just like the whole of Volume 5. Heyooo~!**

 **Seriously, before I end this, I just have to say that... while there were some cool parts ot Volume 5 (Cinder vs. Raven, THE GUNCHUCKS CAME BACK, and a character showed up that will give the shippers of our glorious FNDM more than enough fuel for all their demented Magical Lesbian Spawn) But most of it was just sitting around and talking and even in the fucking fights there were plenty of instances where they just stood around when their partners/allies were in trouble!**

 **I get that Rooster Teeth is on a time-crunch and a budget, but now adding _an additional animated series_ on top of still trying to figure out how to do RWBY right... well fuck, they need an industrial-level of additional animators and writers to pull this off if they honestly wanna keep the 8-month hiatus deadline.**

 **Just my two thoughts on the matter.**

 **Also, on the 40k side of things, who else is intrigued by the new Adeptus Custodes Codex? That's sure to be a metric ton of asswhoopin's... and more than a fair share of Fabstodes conversions are probably also on the way too. _*Pillar Men Theme Intensifies*_**

 **And I just started classes and still have 50 Grey Knights to paint up on commission, only now the due date's in March. All the while I decide to be stupid and build an Alpha Legion army. Oi...**

 **Anyways, reviews, comments, critiques and the like are always welcomed and appreciated (Lord knows that I feel that this chapter was weak), if you like the story feel free to Follow and Favorite and as always I will see you all in the next chapter... Buh-bye~!**


	23. A Penny Saved

**"Late as usual, writer scum! There's pen-work here needs doing!"**

 **Took me forever to write this mainly because I needed to actually put together a cohesive story with some help, as well as a metric ton of homework poppin' up outta the aether.**

 **Oh yeah, and I still have that damn commission to finish. *plops into pillows and falls asleep*.**

 **Warhammer 40k and all subsidiary characters, objects and concepts are a copyright of Games Workshop.**

 **RWBY is a copyright of Rooster Teeth.**

 **I own nothing but this story.**

* * *

 **Chapter 23: A Penny Saved**

 _"War makes strange bedfellows." —Helen Thomas_

* * *

Some terrified animal in the back of his mind was screaming several different languages worth of profanities at the top of its lungs. Here he was, having just spilled the truth—the _whole_ truth—about who he was, what his intent was and just how absolutely out of his league he probably was to _Captain Titus of the Ultramarines_ and his _**wife,**_ _the Imperial Guard Lieutenant he served with_.

And now He had caught Penny sneaking up and listening in on his conversation.

His stomach was roiling, his palms clammy; and that last part wasn't just because he had been sprinting as fast as he could to catch her.

"Hello Jacob," she said with an audible nervousness. "I... did not expect to meet you here—"

Jacob was feeling his own fear peaking; how much had she heard? "Penny," he interrupted in a low, cautious voice, "two things: First, why the effervescent _fuck_ are you here on campus in broad daylight _in a bloody hooded cloak_? And two... how much did you hear?"

Despite the animation level of Poser, there was a legitimate fear in Penny's eyes. "Well, I, uh... I was here to meet with General Ironwood and I was just heading back from said meeting," she said shakily, the telltale signs that she wanted to dodge the latter question evident in her voice. "He didn't want me to be seen, so I thought I would take note from old movies and don the usual unsuspecting cloak. I take it that it doesn't work on you?"

Jacob had a history of dodging questions when he was younger and even up until recently, so he had a pretty good idea that she was lying; to him, liars were always the best lie detectors.

"Penny," he said, his fear and patience still holding, "First off, that never works in real life. In fact, that makes you even more conspicuous."

Penny stared at him before making an understanding "Ohh..."

"And second thing... you haven't answered my second question."

Penny's eyes widened a bit. "So I haven't," she said, her shoulders tightening in on herself.

Now Jacob was getting well and truly worried. "Penny," he said firmly, " _How much did you hear?"_

Penny hesitated, her eyes darting all around. Something felt off in comparison to last night; her actions seemed less robotic and more human than before.

"I... I..."

A gear clicked in Jacob's head. He took a deep breath, the fear still in his body but slowly shutting up. "Look, Penny," he said, much calmer than before, "I just want to know how much you heard."

He hesitance continued for a second, her shoulders still bunched up like a coil.

"Almost all of it; I walked into auditory range while you were talking about the... the... 'Imperium of Man' you called it."

Jacob felt the blood in his stomach rush to his shoes.

She had heard _everything..._

"Oh, this is not good," Jacob muttered under his breath.

"You said that they were from a fictional world," she said with hesitation, as if she was unsure if she really heard that. "And... you said that... _our world_ was fiction to you too. So... you're not really from Remnant."

Jacob inhaled again, long and deep. "No," he said in a defeated tone, "I'm not."

Penny stared at him with an ever-increasing look of curiosity, though she still seemed to be... _embarrassed_ that she had made such a faux-pas as listening in on another person's conversation. Where was the robot girl who didn't give a care about such things?

"I never thought I would meet someone not from Remnant," she said after a second of the two staring at one another awkwardly.

 _There's the bluntness._ He offered her a smile as he replied, "trust me, 8 months ago I would have thought the same thing."

For a second, the tension seemed to fade as she returned her smile. But the smile faded as a thought seemed to cross her mind. "So, that means... you already knew that I'm not a real girl even before we met."

Jacob looked at her and pondered his response. "...Yeah, pretty much," he quickly admitted.

"And yet you didn't tell anyone."

"Well, it was our secret—at least us and Ruby's secret—right?"

Her eyes seem to light up. She offered the smile again. "Yeah. Our secret."

For the second time in less than five minutes, Jacob was feeling a damn-near impossible situation could be turned around. He smiled back, weakly but still in some relief.

A few minutes later they were walking along beneath the archways lining the outside of the main auditorium. Both of them talked in a hushed tone, as if deigning some malefic scheme, though that would have been all wrong; technically it was a benevolent scheme, at least to a couple people. Penny had put the hood of her forest green cloak back over her head, though Jacob had insisted that she now looked like she was about to whip out a gun and start shooting wildly like a skull-wearing maniac with it on; obviously she didn't understand his jabbing comment, but then again Jacob was both fortunate enough and sane enough to not have brought _Sword Art Online_ to Remnant, so she should have counted her blessings.

"So," she began hesitantly, "That video on your Scroll... showed them the future?"

"Well, in theory," he began, "though I can't say for certain; there are already a lot of variables, even without the Imperium and its subjects to consider."

"And Ms. Nikos... she's fated to die?"

Jacob felt a small bout of anger bubble up inside him—not at Penny, but at the very real threat that he held no autonomy over the matter. "Not if I can help it," he said after a second.

Penny stopped in her tracks, her eyes staring off into the abyss as a furrow of worry grew across her brow.

"Hey, Penny," he asked, "you okay?"

"It's... a lot to process I will admit," she said, one dainty hand rising to cradle the side of her head. "Other worlds, lives in danger in the near future—wait! You said Vale would fall under attack! why haven't you told Professor Ozpin about the attack—!"

Jacob clasped a hand over her mouth, stopping her sentence in its tracks. "Whoa, whoa, don't go blurting it out please," he nervously asked. "And to answer your question," he said, "because then if he outright acts against those oncoming plans, "Salem no doubt has backup plans, which means someone else will be in danger; who then will I have sentenced to death by my actions?"

Penny took on a look of deep thought, as if she was running calculations through that mechanical skull of hers. "What do you mean?"

Jacob blew a quick breath out through his nose. "Say, for example, I go to Ozpin and tell him about the attack, he then puts in the necessary precautions to prevent that from happening. Then Salem pulls out another plan that attacks from another angle we weren't able to predict and... say, Ruby is killed, or Pyrrha, or Jaune or... _anyone else,_ really. Indirectly, by my actions they were killed; maybe someone else was the direct killer, but it was my decision that set them on the path to that encounter. That's why I'm trying to adhere to the events that played out in the show, because then I can react accordingly and save as many as I can."

"But you aren't in this... 'canonical timeline'," she noted slowly and robotically, "So by you actually being here the timeline is diverting, right?"

Jacob huffed. "Well, yes and no; You're right that technically the butterfly effect is bound to kick in any time now," he said as he ran a hand through the hair on his head, "but still the core events remain on-schedule, in theory at least. The Dance, the Vytal Festival, so on, so forth, nothing's stopping them from happening... yet, at least."

Penny blinked. "'Butterfly effect'? What is that?"

Jacob sighed. For a spit-second he had hoped that meant Remnant—be it by random chance or by Monty's design—had some vestige of at least basic quantum mechanics, not that he understood a lick of the math that went into the subject. "It's a... theoretical math concept—at least from what I understand—that is mentioned a lot back home. Basically, it's what you said, that a small action will ripple outwards into greater changes as time goes on. But at the same time... part of me is afraid that Doctor Who's "fixed point in time" idea may come to fruition."

"'Doctor Who?'"

Jacob slapped his forehead as he realized he was slipping back into his jargon from Earth. Considering he had only been able to speak of Earth to himself and no one else, it did feel nice in a way, but it was like talking to a tribal in the Amazon about the newest video game release. "It's not important," he finally sighed, "wibbly-wobbly-time stuff. The point is that for all I know my actions... my actions could be meaningless. Now, I refuse to believe that _will_ happen, but it's a lingering threat and I won't pretend it's not there."

Penny seemed to watch him with a mild sense of rapt curiosity. "I... suppose that makes sense," she replied as she held her chin and pondered his meaning. They continued walking, now following the building edge back towards the mess hall.

Jacob stopped in his tracks and leaned back against a column supporting the archways. "Funny thing is," he began, "I was expecting you to have the nonchalant-ness about me being from another world, but Captain Titus and Lieutenant Mira was... surprising to say the least."

Penny stood stiff as a board across from him. "If they are from a star-faring kingdom of their own, it would be logical to assume that this would not be the strangest thing they have heard of."

Jacob shrugged in thought. "Fair point," he said, "but I doubt that anything they in particular have seen could top that. But what about you?"

Penny stared down at her feet. She seemed to hesitate for a few seconds before answering. "Well, many Atlesian scientists that my father has worked with have theorized that there is life outside of Remnat; If the stars in the sky are no different from our sun, who's to say that those stars don't have planets of their own with people of their own?"

Jacob didn't say anything at first before he let out a small chuckle. "Funny how Remnant hasn't even put men into outer space that they would already have a concept of alien life. Back home we laugh at those who believe in aliens just due to how there's not a lick of proof of their existence."

"That's not nice," she replied.

"Maybe not," he said in turn, "but a lot of times they're so far out there you wonder just what they spike their water with every morning."

"And what about Mr. and Mrs. Ultramar? You said they're from outer space too, shouldn't they have encountered aliens?"

Jacob felt a harsh laugh bubble up in his throat only to be caught in his teeth as it tried to escape. "Well, they have," he began, the raucous roar of _WAAAAAGH_ thundering through his mind, "But those aliens they have met... well, let's just say you wouldn't enjoy meeting them."

The two eventually found a bench on the edge of the center courtyard, the both of them sitting down and staring across the way at the statue beckoning students in.

There was silence for a good long minute as Penny seemed to be thinking up a question.

"Jacob... you've seemed very nervous around me, and that's even considering how unaware I am of... you know, social cues... and you said that there were multiple casualties, not just Ms. Nikos."

The sweaty palms were back in full force before Jacob had time to formulate a response.

"Well," he tried to start, "Yang gets hit pretty badly—she survives but—"

"I'm one of those casualties, aren't I?"

The silence was thick enough to stop his sentence in his throat.

"Please tell me."

He felt a rising ache as his mind replayed _P. v. P._

"Yes."

Silence again, though he was spared the burning of tears in his eyes and the embarrassment of blubbering as he bored holes into the concrete with his eyes.

"You've been remarkably astute," Jacob mentioned lowly as he continued to stare into the ground. "You know that, right?"

No response.

"Penny... I didn't want to tell anyone purely for that one reason I mentioned earlier. If you want to feel angry with me, I won't hold you back."

"Why would I be angry?"

Jacob looked up at her with a surprised glance.

"So long as my memory core remains intact, I'm not really dead. I presume only my body was hurt; no wounds to my head?"

Jacob let her reaction roll around in his head for a few seconds before the fact that she was a robot clicked again. M _an, I am out of it,_ he thought to himself. "Uh, no, no, it was... an accident fighting Pyrrha during the Vytal Festival Tournament." He hesitated for a second; subtle as she was now, there was no telling what would happen if Penny learned that Cinder and her lackeys were here. "Pyrrha starts seeing things because of some fuckery from some...less-than-savory people and she thinks that you have around 10 times as many blades as you actually have. She activates her Semblance and blasts it to full power and... you get sliced and diced like a cube steak."

Penny seemed to absorb the whole concept slowly and methodically. "Well, it wasn't Ms. Nikos' fault in the first place," she said. "It was whoever caused her to see those things! That wasn't very nice at all!"

 _There's the Penny we know and love,_ Jacob thought to himself.

"Is there anything we can do?" Penny asked.

Jacob sighed heavily. "The most we can do for now is be patient and find ways to undermine these people. If you'd like—I can't believe I'm saying this—I can show you what happened, or happens or whatever when we're more... y'know, secluded; after you're up to date, then we can formulate a proper plan."

"I think that would be an excellent plan," she replied. "But, I must confess, I am actually really curious about your world." She shifted to look directly forward at him, her blue-green eyes sparkling as a small, sweet smile graced her face. "Tell me," she began, "is your world like Remnant? Do you have Dust? What about Aura and Semblances? Grimm?"

Jacob chuckled as he replied, "Easy, Penny, one question at a time. Well, to the Imperium of Man, it's called Holy Terra; but to me, it's always been Earth..."

* * *

"Good morning class! I hope you're all prepared for today's lecture."

A broken chorus of hums and groans replied back to Professor Port. Yang let out a sigh. _Back to the daily grind._

"Alright students, as you may remember we finished our discussion on mammalian Grimm forms when last we met. Now the time has come for us to begin on the saurian Grimm, the true challenges for young Huntsmen! If you open your textbooks to page 145, we'll start off with the Razorback, a truly formidable..."

Yang looked around the classroom, taking in a headcount of everybody present. Jaune was still looking exhausted—boy, that nightmare must have really taken it out of him—and by contrast Pyrrha was beaming brightly from their encounter with her uncle and aunt. It reminded Yang so much of how Ruby was when Uncle Qrow came by to see them when he wasn't in the field or training newbies at Signal; Even she couldn't help but share in the enthusiasm. Ruby was as attentive as ever—in that she was already doodling in a visible attempt to emulate Jacob's skeletal frame sketches—Weiss was already writing down as many notes as she possibly could and Blake was at attention, though she was as usual only noting down the basics. Even then, there was something obviously gnawing at her, some unspoken thought that bubbled up in her hunched shoulders and her stolid gaze as she listened to Port's lecture. Yang would have to ask her about that later.

And in between the two teams, an empty seat where one lunatic should have been.

Yang sighed again. Jacob's fighting was pretty solid last night, but even she knew that he had overextended himself; the second the knee on that robot failed, he would have been crushed, Aura or not. He was just lucky that her Semblance had been boosted enough to knock it off its feet. Still, she was surprised that he didn't try to fight sneakily like he had at the docks or against Weiss all those weeks ago. When she went down from the punch she remembered beginning to black-out, just teetering on the edge of darkness before the roar of the conscious world pulled her back out. Ruby told her on the way back how Jacob had shot at Roman to distract him from her, something that both amused her and worried her; He wouldn't have needed to do that had she stayed up and not blacked-out. She needed to pump her Aura big-time if she wanted to not do that again.

But now wasn't the time. She needed to focus and get as many notes as she could to relay back to him when classes were done for the day; it was the least she could do for him after risking his neck for her.

She heard a snicker from the opposite side of the room. She glanced over to see Dove and Thresh sneering and making kissy faces at her.

Yang's brow furrowed in annoyance. _Can't they go one week without making fun of either of us? I mean, it was just a kiss; what are those morons, ten?_

Normally, Yang wasn't one for subtle and innocuous, but there were times that called for it. This was debatably not one of those moments. Just below the table's edge and just in range of CRDL's line of sight, she shot them The Bird as she began scribbling down notes.

"Ruby," she muttered under her breath.

"Hmm?" Ruby didn't look up from her skeletal doodle of a man charging.

"Remind me to kick CRDL's butt in the ring this afternoon."

"They're doing it again?"

"When _aren't_ they?"

"Ignore them and focus on the lecture," Weiss commented.

Yang huffed as she continued jotting down notes. As usual, Professor Port had broken off on one of his stories half-way through.

"...When I finally managed to find the Razorback pack, they were so agile that hitting them was darn near impossible; it wasn't until I found the Alpha that I realized that they were the least of my problems..."

Yang heard only half of it, but she could tell it would be a long day to get to Sparring class.

 _Oh goody._

For an hour they ended up listening to Port's lecture on "saurian Grimm", something that Yang had once loved to hear about. Saurian Grimm were few and far between, even rarer than Goliaths and usually only seen in the outer territories of the Kingdoms. Uncle Qrow said that he once went toe-to-toe with a Kingslayer; that used to be Yang's favorite story as a kid. Meanwhile, as Port continued to drone on, Yang was furiously taking as many notes as she could, relaying basic ideas and details so Jacob wouldn't fall behind them. Fortunately for him, Yang was no slouch in school; despite the "blonde bimbo" look that she couldn't deny she presented herself as, she was in the top 25 of her class at Signal out of a class of 100 Huntsmen and Huntresses. While, sure, that wasn't as impressive as Weiss' near-perfect grades in Beacon now, she still was proud that she was in the top 25—even more so when Taiyang gave her a newly-upgraded Bumblebee as a graduation gift.

Yang unconsciously smiled as she scribbled down notes, all the while tracing a line down Memory Lane in the back of her head. That beautiful yellow bike had been in need of some frame upgrades and some extra fine tuning but Yang was short the Lien to get that all done, so the moment she saw her baby out from under the tarp she wouldn't and couldn't care about anything else in the world—outside of something happening with Ruby, of course.

"...In conclusion class, while not as agile as insectoid Grimm or as durable as mammalian Grimm, saurian Grimm are certainly not without their perils."

The bell rang for class to end.

"Haha! Managed to time that one just right! Alright students, no homework for tonight, but do study up for the quiz next class. Dismissed!"

"Finally," Yang said, relaxing her wrist as she finished the notes.

"You know, Yang," Blake began as they got up from their desks, "if you wanted to get better notes for Jacob, you should have just asked us."

"Yeah, but it's my butt he saved last night," she replied. "I owe him."

She noticed a small, cheeky smile on Nora's face as JNPR closed in on them. "Ooh, don't give Cardin any ideas," she cheekily toned.

Yang chuckled irately. "Don't push it Nora."

"Cardin will continue to use that against you, Yang," Ren replied, "unless you can find a means to end that... though I doubt you are without a means of doing this."

Yang grinned. "Well, I _am_ hoping to fight Cardin in Sparring class today."

Nora could have grown devil horns with the arrival of that malicious grin on her face. "Ohohohoh, that should be fun to watch."

As the group strolled to their next class, a couple conversations started rolling around the group. Word was that CFVY was set to orchestrate the Dance, however there was the minor problem that they were apparently set to be sent off on a mission from Professor Ozpin. Granted, CFVY was known for their skill in the field so everyone expected that they would have no trouble getting back from their mission. The big problem was that it was about 2 weeks until the Dance would begin and their mission began in a few days; could they get back in time?

"In the event they are unable to get back in time," Weiss began, "I've suggested to Professor Ozpin that perhaps someone else take up the position. I may have also thrown my own metaphorical hat into that ring." Weiss' smile screamed 'ego-boosting' from miles away.

Weiss running a party? Yeah, that wasn't gonna fly. "Oh no you don't, Ice Queen," she replied stopping in place, "you couldn't throw a party to save your life."

"Oh, and you could do better? Under you the party would devolve into chaos!"

"I have more control than that!"

"Tell that to the Boarbatusk you reamed on last week; or, better yet, to Torchwick!"

"Okay, okay," Pyrrha suggested as she came up between them, "we can find a compromise here; How about you _both_ work together? I mean, all of Team CFVY was supposed to help with making this happen, so why not both of you in tandem?"

Yang and Weiss shared a look. "Fair enough," Weiss said, "We'd balance each other out, I suppose; I provide some class, you provide some entertainment for everyone."

Yang hummed in thought. _Better than nothing, I guess._

"Deal," Yang said, offering a handshake. Weiss returned it with an unusually firm shake of her own.

They continued walking the hallways towards Oobleck's class, commenting on a few other happenings around the school. Times like this made Yang feel like for a split-second she was a normal, everyday, non-Huntress person that dealt with regular college drama and other stuff in that lifestyle. But who in their right mind would want _that_ kind of life in the prime of their lives?

"So," Nora piped up, "about last night, when you guys went to find Torchwick... did you actually learn anything about what they're doing?"

"Well," Blake began, "we got some information, but most of it I honestly find really troubling."

"Oh? Like what?"

"By all indications, the White Fang and Torchwick seem to be in a three-part alliance with one other group... the Eightfold Path."

The chatter in the hall seemed to quiet down to a murmuring roar. Nora and Ren had stopped in their tracks, worried looks on their faces.

"You gotta be kidding me," Nora groaned, holding her head. Yang was honestly a bit confused; most citizens of Vale had heard of The Eightfold Path, but as far as she knew they were just a bunch of raiders and murderers than never ventured close to the cities.

"Wait, who's the Eightfold Path," Jaune asked, "and why is that a problem?"

Nora seemed to take worryingly deep breath. "The Eightfold Path is basically a gang of vagabonds and psychopaths but taken to the 11th degree," she began gravely.

Ren chimed in next. "Only a few have been seen in the field but they're known for... raising and pillaging villages quickly, almost unnaturally. When officials arrive, the towns they strike are already smoldering or have been ravaged in a way so to let it survive and be targetable again."

Yang felt a shiver of both anger and fear; these raiders were smart enough and cruel enough to let a village survive by the skin of its teeth just to milk it of supplies later. "We met one of them during the fight," Yang replied, "hell of a big guy, lots of armor plating. Had this cannon he hit Jacob with, I think it was sound-based or something."

Ren nodded. "Sound like one of their field commanders. They are usually flanked by fanatics who are generally crueler than their masters."

Nora shivered violently at that remark. Yang felt an angry knot start to form in her stomach.

"Define 'crueler' for me," Weiss said uneasily.

"Not things for polite conversation, I can assure you that."

A collective shiver of disgust ran through the ranks of both RWBY and JNPR.

"How... how do you guys know that stuff," Jaune asked.

"When Nora and I were younger, we passed through a few towns along one of their 'crusade' paths," he replied. "I prefer to keep that memory locked away if I can."

"Okay," Ruby interjected, "can we backtrack to talking about what plans they may have? I'm kinda getting icked out..."

A unified "agreed" came out of everyone's mouths.

"The fact that the White Fang is working with them has me worried," Blake said, "even worse with Torchwick and his lackeys in amongst their ranks too."

"Well then, what do we do?"

Jaune's question was practically laser-guided; first it was a bunch of criminals, then it was a terrorist organization, and now a band or psychos with a body count of _villages_?

Yang shook her head fiercely, balling her fists together. _They may be tough... but I'm tougher. Let them come and try to do anything to this town._

 _I dare them._

* * *

 _CLANG!_

 _CLANG!_

 _CLANG!_

The sizzle of the molten metal was to his ears like silk was to anyone's skin. The harsh clangs came with the beating of his heart as he shaped the metal to his heart's delight.

 _CLANG!_

 _CLANG!_

 _CLANG!_

The nagging thoughts from last night and earlier settled into the back of his mind as he worked his forge like clockwork. To a Salamander, when you were not helping out the people of your Sanctuary City along with your brothers, the greatest peace one could find was working a forge. It was at the forge where one could create something so mighty and concrete in form, create that which could both save the just and destroy the wicked. In the flames of the Promethean Cult one could find the tempered path of The Emperor's Light; reliance on one's self as well as sacrificing for the good of others all had their place in walking the path.

He tested the heft of the blade. It was off to him, perhaps a meagre inch or two off-center in balance; No matter, that could be solved easily enough. Blade met blaze as he reheated the mithril in the forge, the metal glowing a bright sun-yellow. The darkened room around him lit up with the light of the fire, kisses of gold dancing off the myriad of weapons he created from out of the corner of his eye.

"In the fires I am born anew,"he whispered to no one.

He glanced down at his hand. A silver ring with an emerald set into the center, carved into the shape of The Flame of Vulkan. Beneath it, a pair of crossed hammers, marking the Tools of the Forge.

Vulkan sighed. _Emperor Damnit, I miss my wyrm-hide._

Out came the blade and back onto the anvil.

 _CLANG!_

 _CLANG!_

 _CLANG!_

As he crafted the blade in his hand, his mind traced back to days that were now truly a lifetime ago. He remembered his youthful days in the Battle Companies, working the forges with the calm of an artisan and passion befitting a fresh novice; His youth before that in Epithemus, watching his mother and father—his human father, not the Primarch, of course—make their living in the markets selling gnorl-whale hides; his days as a Firedrake in the 1st Company, and then as Captain of the 4th Company, the Master of the Fleet. Granted, back in those days he was, for a Salamander at least, far more driven by his tasks rather than compassion.

 _CLANG!_

 _CLANG!_

 _CLANG!_

Of course, all Sons of the 18th Primarch had some compassion in their hearts, as was trained into them by the Reclusiarch and his Chaplains without remorse; The Primarch valued the lives of all mankind, not just his Astartes first. but in comparison to Tu'Shan, Vulkan was closer to an Ultramarine at times than he was to a Salamander; Ultramarines like that blowhard 3rd Company Captain Cato Sicarius focused on the mission, not the people they saved, but Salamanders would take a bullet for any Imperial citizen in harm's way.

Vulkan had always kept that in mind, but when he became Forgefather... that spark of compassion flickered ever so slightly. Suddenly the biggest focus had been finding the Primarch's Relics.

It took coming to Remnant for that truth to sink in.

 _Rrring!_

Vulkan stopped mid-swing. The front door to the shop.

Turning the knobs that controlled the forge's flame down, he reduced it to a candle's flame and set the glowing metal blade on top of the anvil, the blade now the distinct shape of a khopesh.

"What time is it," he asked himself, blinking from behind a set of industrial goggles.

A quick glance at the clock over his mithril armor's stand told him it was 3:41. His brow furrowed; he had started forging that blade around 11:00, he couldn't have been that slow today, right?

Wiping the sweat from his hands with his leather apron, he walked to the door into the shop and was greeted by the sight of Ciaphas Cain standing in the center of the room, staring at Vulkan's Remnant-made Cataphractii armor. Beside his foot there was a large, black, leather case just like what a guitar would be held in.

"You know, Vulkan," Cain began, still staring at the fabricated relic, "even to this day, had this been in the Imperium, I honestly would have believed that this was true Cataphractii armor and I would have removed myself from the presence of such a venerated old suit of armor."

"When you spend as much time in the armory and forges on Prometheus as I have, it's a disappointing truth that eventually that luster of archaic lore starts to dull over time," Vulkan replied, closing the distance and bringing Cain into an Ursa-sized hug. "What brings you to the store?"

"Oh, nothing much," Cain said, lifting up the case. "I was just wondering if there was a chance to have the old girl tested out, see if she needs a tune-up."

Vulkan grinned. "Oh? What's the occasion?"

"After seeing that Muller fellow's chainsword, I couldn't help but get nostalgic. A saber is nice, but I miss a blade that rumbles in my hand sometimes." He scratched his sideburns as he said it, reminding Vulkan of that fresh-faced Commissar-turned-Huntsman he met some twenty-odd years ago that wasn't the least bit happy about getting facial hair so late in his teen years.

Vulkan chuckled and replied, "alrighty then, let's see if she's still up to snuff, eh?" He clicked open the case and was met with a familiar old friend. It was a chainsword not unlike Jacob's, though unlike his, Cain's was only a chainsword with no transformations built into it. But while Jacob's was unmarked and hardly personalized, Cain's chainsword—which he had named Valhalla for more-than-obvious reasons—was wreathed in ornate etchings of golden briars and olive branches, an eagle mounted on the top of the dark-red casing to give it a menacing and regal look.

"Hey, old girl," Vulkan muttered, "good to see you again." He looked up at the Commissar and said, "Do you remember when I first gave her to you as a graduation gift?"

Cain smiled and chuckled. "Of course. I told you that she worthy only of an Astartes with that much bloody gold wreathing the case. And if I recall correctly, _you_ refused to let me refuse such a beautiful gift."

"Nocturne tradition," Vulkan replied.

"'Never turn away a gift from a friend,'" Cain repeated back from memory. "Well, in hindsight, I'm glad I didn't."

Vulkan took the chainsword and brought it to the counter astride the door to the forge, beginning to disassemble the weapon to check if all was still working well. Having made chainswords for centuries he was well-versed in their scematics, even considering having to modify the designs for Remnant technology. Vulkan remembered how fascinated he had first been working with Dust rather than Promethium, figuring out how to maintain effficiency in the engine and how to make different Dust types all produce the same effect of simply powering the blade.

As he took the weapon apart, he noticed Cain seemed to be on edge as well; something was troubling him to a degree. "There's something else on your mind, Ciaphas."

Ciaphas sighed. "Truly an Inquisitor at heart," he said dryly under his breath. "I was thinking about that fight yesterday evening over breakfast with Amberley."

Vulkan smiled at the image of the two of them having a conversation over breakfast through a holoscreen, both probably working on tall glass of coffee or tea. While Cain had come to town on behalf of Ironwood, Amberley had offered to remain in Atlas for the time being to hold down the fort. "Did she have any comments about it?"

Cain rolled his eyes. "Only the usual, at first. I appreciate her encouraging words, but even she should know by now I can get my ass kicked even on a good day. Anyway, I was talking with her and, well, the debacle of the Eightfold Path came up. She was worried about how it was Eliphas we encountered last night."

Vulkan looked up at Cain as he finished inspecting the guide bar. "I don't see why that's of particular concern. Chaos has always sprung up in unexpected places. It's in its very nature." He began to test the sharpness of the teeth, the sheen of the canine-like blades having only dulled some thanks to sparse usage.

Cain made a face of agreement. "True, Vulkan, but at the same time, we haven't seen him in—what was it now, five years since Gabriel fought him?"

Vulkan didn't need to think hard to remember seeing his partner come back to the team bloodied and bruised with a broken Word Bearer pauldron dragging along behind him. "six years next January."

"Right, right," Cain said as he waved the thought aside. "Regardless, doesn't it feel a bit odd just as another Imperial shows up that The Eightfold Path starts popping up again like bunch of plague zombies?"

Vulkan sighed. "That is a valid point," he said, determining everything was in order and well-maintained enough to be active again. "I would call coincidence into play, but in our line of work there's no such thing as coincidences, right?"

Cain arched an eyebrow and made a sound like strangled cough mixed with a laugh. "Where have you been these last few years, He'Stan? Coincidences are abounding for Huntsmen and Imperials alike," he replied. Vulkan merely shrugged his shoulders as if it were a meagre suggestion, all the while his fingers deftly piecing the chainsword back together again.

"Regardless, Ozpin's getting nervous about everything going on... and we still haven't had any luck with Amber."

Cain's sarcastic smile took a downturn. "You still haven't told Mendoza, have you?"

Vulkan stopped as he was reattaching the chain to the guide bar. "I called Mendoza several times these last three months and left him messages. No response."

Cain scratched his chin. "For someone as punctual as the Crimson Fists' Chief Librarian, _that's_ unusual _."_

"I know, Ciaphas," Vulkan said, stopping and holding up a hand, "I know."

"What about Dante?"

Vulkan continued onwards, replying, "Dante has been out on assignment for Lionheart, but Pandora got my message. She'll let him know as soon as he gets back, but that could be a day, a few weeks, Emperor knows."

Cain wore a look of concentration. "At least she's always got an ear out for us. If being a Haven professor is anything like being an Atlas professor, she's got a million other things to worry about."

The conversation lapsed into a lull, the room now only filled with the sound of the air conditioner and the clicking of gears and springs returning to a combined form.

Vulkan hated this kind of silence, when two friends had run out of ideas for a conversation. "So," he eventually began as he finished reassembling the engine block, "Any luck?"

Cain blinked. "Beg your pardon? Luck with what?"

Vulkan looked up and smiled.

Cain took on a look of confusion before the lightbulb went off in his head. "Oh, that. Uhm, well, she hadn't checked after I left, but she was planning to let me know tonight if there's anything."

"You two are running out of time," Vulkan toned with a chuckle.

"You're one to talk," Cain replied, "at least I got married!"

"To an Inquisitor you had bedded on more than one occasion back in the Imperium."

Cain protested just as Vulkan finished rebuilding Valhalla, rubbing her down with his extra-strength polish to give her that new-weapon shine. "Well, while you two are working on your baby, this old girl is ready for a battle again," he said as he hefted the blade up, gunning the trigger a bit to test the mechanisms. The chain flowed smoothly along it's vicious path, a growl emanating from the engine that lulled to a purr the lighter his grip became. Letting the blades come to a stop, he offered it back to Cain, the commissar's eyes lighting up like a kid's at Sanguinala.

Cain revved the blade again as he took it from Vulkan, doing a few flourishes with it as he tested the hacking weapon. He swung it with deft precision, every move calculated and rehearsed from now more than a century of practice with the Imperium's signature weapon.

"You done?" Vulkan ribbed with a grin on his face.

"Oh, it feels good to have the old girl ready to fight again," Cain replied, reaching down to the left side of his waist. With a few clicks from buttons and magnetic seals the chainsword now hung at his waist, ready to be brought to bear at a moment's notice.

Vulkan barked a solitary laugh and said, "Now the ensemble's complete!"

Cain let out a small sigh. "Commissar Ciaphas Cain, ' _Hero of the Imperium'_ is back in business."

They were pulled from their moment by the sudden sound of a Scroll ringing. Vulkan reached for his pocket and felt the rumble that confirmed it was his. He checked the caller: it was Titus.

"Oh, class must have just ended," Vulkan deduced. "Wonder what he wants to talk about so early." He tapped the answer button and replied, "Hey, Titus! How was your first day of teaching at Beacon—"

"Vulkan," Titus began, interrupting the Forgefather. "There's been a new development with Mr. Muller."

Vulkan felt a pit in his stomach; Titus sounded urgent, even a bit panicked, a very unusual tone to hear from him. "What is it?"

"I couldn't explain it over the Scroll even if I wanted to," he replied, sounding like he didn't want to be overheard. "Let's just say, we were wrong, all of us were _dead wrong_ about him. Are you busy?"

"Uh, no, no," Vulkan replied, noticing that Ciaphas had leaned in in curiosity. "I was just fixing up Ciaphas' chainsword, he wanted to start bringing it out again."

"is he still there?"

Vulkan looked up at Ciaphas, who then proceeded to motion to be put on speaker. Vulkan did so immediately, Cain calling out, "Still present, Titus."

"Good, good, Mira just called Gabriel and Logan, we're on our way back to the hotel. Can you meet us there?"

"Of course, we'll be over immediately. What's this all about?"

There was dead silence for several seconds.

"Titus?"

Cain's question went unanswered for another few seconds.

Titus' voice was low and hinted at confusion when he finally spoke. "I don't honestly know, Ciaphas. But Mr. Muller has answers to questions we would have never dreamed of... at least I think."

Titus wasn't making sense, and now Vulkan was feeling that creeping nag of fear in the back of his head. "What does that mean, Titus? What you said makes no sense."

"...Honestly," Titus began, "Nothing makes sense anymore. I'll see you at the room."

And with that, the call ended and the shop was plunged into silence.

"What was _that_ all about," Ciaphas asked, "I can't have been the only one to notice he sounded... _disturbed_ , right?"

Vulkan didn't respond at first, hanging up his apron and turning off the systems to the forge in back. The tone of Titus' voice was more than just worrying; it was cause for alarm.

"More than I like," he replied, heading to the door with the keys to the shop, Cain turning to follow him. "Let's just hope that Jacob's really an Imperial, though what I saw could say to him being Imperial... or something terrible."

They exited the store and began to walk down the street towards the hotel in the Commercial District, the late afternoon sun glaring overhead.

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

Vulkan turned his head and continued to talk to Ciaphas as they urgently strolled down the street. You were talking about coincidences earlier," he began lowly to keep people from hearing, "well how about this: You remember how I said that when someone is inducted into the Inquisition, the center ring of the Knighting Circle in the Vaults below Beacon will glow in certain ways?"

Cain shot him an eyebrow. "I don't actually remember you saying that; you might have mentioned it to the rest of our lot, but I think this is the first time I'm hearing of it."

Vulkan furrowed his brow in return. "I think I did," he replied, "At Mira's baby shower when Titus asked us to help with ferrying—"

"Oh! Right, I forgot that! Sorry."

"Right. Well, when Jacob was inducted, the runes definitely glowed in a non-Remnantine way."

"...Meaning?"

"While a Remnantine's pattern is the basic outer circle—at least as far as I've seen—someone from the Imperium will have the entire circle glow, with one of the tiles on the edge glowing for what is the closest corner of the galaxy they hail from. Titus would have been, when facing northerly, the 4th on the right from the bottom, for example, to represent he's from Ultramar."

Cain continued to put the eyebrow to work. "And you know this _how?"_

Vulkan waved and said, "Pure speculation at this point. Ozpin has always said he wanted to look into what the differences mean, but I've seen the patterns a few times now and I can at least piece together a rough estimate of what it means."

"Okay," Cain said slowly, "then if that's the case, what is he?"

Vulkan hesitated as they continued to walk. "His glow was the dead center of the circle, with none of the rings glowing."

Ciaphas seemed to digest that for a moment. "Okay, so the lack of rings is confusing alone, but what does the center glowing mean?"

Vulkan couldn't really believe where he was actually going with this. "Only one person inducted into the Inquisition has ever had that glow... I don't want to believe it's the real deal, but... Ozpin said that the last person to have that pattern was a man who went by the name of Andros Launceddre."

Cain stopped in his tracks. "The former Captain-General of the Custodes?"

"The same," Vulkan replied lowly.

"But, that means—"

"—Our friend Mr. Muller is from The Throneworld."

* * *

The day may have been long, but Jacob couldn't lie that the chips were beginning to fall into an odd, panicky, mildly-infuriating but potentially good pattern. Of all the people it could have been to learn his secret today, Penny was perhaps higher on his "Okay" list, if not highest overall. After a few hours to cool down from the realization that he had not only spoiled the future to Penny but also informed characters from 40k to his plight, Jacob was feeling like this was a dangerous path he now walked that could easily lead to disaster. One wrong step, one hair out of line, and canon suddenly unravels like a roll of paper towels.

But he really couldn't panic all that much when Penny was being so cute right next to him.

The two had spent the last few hours simply talking—most of the talking done by the curious little automaton—wandering about the Academy, keeping their distance from the main student body. They now occupied a patch of grass beneath the tree Jacob had sulked under in the aftermath of the dock fight, the two of them looking out over the city.

Penny sat leaning back against the tree, cross-legged like a child. He was currently stretched out, reclining against the tree to her right with his right hand resting on his stomach and his legs together, right foot resting atop his left as he sat and looked out over the city.

Jacob couldn't help but smile at the image of Penny sitting like that, a wide-eyed child in every sense of the word that screamed the word "cute" in twenty-odd languages. It was even better seeing her clearly enjoy his movies; Jacob sat with his left hand holding his phone up as Penny watched in rapt awe at the small screen, an earbud in each one's ear to hear the movie. On screen the forces of the Rebel Alliance were swarming the First Death Star, the X-wing of Luke Skywalker having been just cooked by a scathing blast from Vader's TIE Fighter.

 _"I've lost Artoo!"_

"No, not Artoo!"

"Easy, easy, Penny," Jacob replied, "just wait."

 _"The Death Star is in clearance of the planet. The Death Star is in clearance of the planet."_

 _"You may fire when ready," toned Peter Cushing as Grand Moff Tarkin. John Williams' music swelled as the Death Star began to prime its beam before cutting back to Vader bearing down on Luke._

 _Vader locked_ _onto Luke, grimly saying, "I have you now."_

 _He squeezed off a few shots before suddenly the TIE Fighter on his right exploded, two red lasers blasting it into debris._

 _"What?!"_

 _A cut to Han Solo. "YEAHOO!" The Millennium Falcon screamed down towards the trench, hiding in the sun of Yavin._

 _"Look out," cries the other pilot, panicking and swerving, only to bump into Vader's TIE Advanced and send the Dark Lord of the Sith tumbling into the void. The pilot quickly crashed his own TIE, leaving Luke free to fire._

 _"You're all clear kid, now let's blow this thing and go home!"_

A massive smile rushed over Penny's face as she watched on. Jacob beamed brightly at her reaction.

 _The proton torpedo sailed through space, reaching its target and swerving down into the thermal exhaust port. Luke breathed a sigh of relief as he and the other Rebel vessels sailed away. The scene swapped to the last few seconds onboard the Death Star before cutting back to space again. There was a massive blast of pyrotechnics on-screen, and the Death Star was no more._

Jacob chuckled. "I never get tired of that," he said through a laugh as the Rebels flew back to their base on Yavin IV. Penny looked over at him with a big smile and giggled with him.

They continued to watch in silence, with Penny squeezing Jacob's arm like a vice when Artoo returned during the Throne Room scene.

The music swelled, the credits rolled, and Penny clapped her metal hands in applause. "Sensational!"

"Congratulations, Penny Polendina," Jacob began, "You are officially the first citizen of Remnant to see one of Earth's greatest cinematic series on—well, not exactly a _big_ screen, but you get the idea."

"That was so much fun to watch," Penny replied, "We ought to show Ruby these movies too sometime! Well, when it's safe for you to tell them the truth, of course."

Jacob made a smile and pointed at her in the "now you're getting it" sense of the gesture.

"You said that there were seven movies in this series," she asked, "right?"

"Should be eight films come this... September," he replied. " _Star Wars: The Last Jedi's_ supposed to come out around... early or mid-December if I remember right. I'm hoping it's gonna be good... even if I can't go and see it."

"If it was made by the same people, it should be," she said back.

Jacob grimaced in thought. Sure, The Mouse wasn't one to do wrong by its properties consciously, but, well... "First time for everything," he muttered under his breath. "But, still's here's to hoping, right?"

"So, you said that this was the... 'Despecialized Edition'? What did you mean by that?"

Jacob shifted and set his phone down on his stomach. "Well," he began, "Let's just say that the director went back and edited the movies a decade or two later and somehow made bad and bizarre changes; case in point, his edit had that green alien Greedo shoot at Han first instead of Han just shooting the bastard dead. So a few fans came up with this idea and started sharing it with everyone else."

Penny's brow furrowed. "Isn't doing that illegal?"

Jacob held up his hand flat and shook it side-to-side. "Technically, yes," he replied, "but the majority of people have been asking for the non-Special Edition for years and he refused to give it. So, we took matters into our own hands. Besides, it's only illegal if we sell it; sharing it for no price is fine by federal law, so long as you follow the baseline rules."

While Penny pondered his ruminations, Jacob readjusted and checked the battery of his phone. Having recharged it earlier while he and Penny were talking in the mess hall for lunch—where he quickly found out that she had a faux "appetite" that lead to her downing two ½-pound hamburgers with ease—he was still down to only 40% of the battery's life before he would need to plug in again. Jacob hummed as he put it to sleep and then into his pocket as Penny began to ask him another question.

"Jacob," she began, "Do you think we have enough time for one more movie from your world?"

Jacob looked at her with a cocked eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

Penny sat upright and simply replied, "If half of the movies of your world are as creative as this one, the people of your world must be astonishingly creative!"

Jacob rolled his eyes. "To an extent," he said dryly, a myriad of sequels and reboots coming to mind as he said it. "You're looking to get an anthropology lesson through my media, right?"

Penny rubbed the back of her head and hesitantly replied, "No..."

 _Hiccup!_

Jacob laughed. "Honestly, Penny, it's closing in on dinner time, I should probably meet up with the rest of the guys and get what info they were able to relay from class—"

"What about our show?"

Jacob stopped. He knew exactly what she wanted to see, or at least some extent."Uhh, well... See... how do I put this... I don't think it's necessarily a good idea to know too much—"

"Perhaps with my input," she interrupted immediately, "We can prevent Ms. Nikos' death. If I can see all the variables, there may be a way to establish a plan in our favor."

Jacob weighed her suggestion in his head. On the one hand, it was potentially dangerous as her input and output could upset things and put others in danger. On the other, she was already partially in the know. Giving her all the details could play in his favor.

It was a risk he—hopefully—could take.

"Alrighty then, Penny," he began cautiously, "where do you want to start?"

Penny took a minute to think it over, humming aloud as she pondered. "While the most thorough way about it would be to start at the beginning, we are on a time crunch at the current moment. You said it she perished in Volume 3, Chapter 12, correct?"

Jacob felt unnerved by how she phrased it, but she was technically right. "Well, uhm, yes."

"I would imagine it would be a good idea to see the entire Volume the whole way through," she continued.

Jacob breathed a heavy sigh before he solemnly extended his phone to her. "I would say that's probably a good idea," he continued, though I don't imagine you'll be able to see it all in one... sitting..."

As he had been talking to her, she tapped her wrist and her palm opened up to reveal a metallic tendril that snaked from her wrist up to the base of his phone, prodding it before finally connecting into the machine.

Jacob stared at her, mainly out of surprise that her—for all intents and purposes—universal power chord was able to jack into his phone.

Penny looked back at him and clearly was confused by the look on his face. "What?"

Jacob sat there with a slightly ajar mouth as he replied, "I'm just amazed that you were able to make the connection, being that my tech is more than a little foreign and all that."

"Oh, right," she began with realization, "General Ironwood created a metamorphosing jacking chord in the event I ever needed to access computer systems. It will restructure itself based on whatever port it needs to interact with."

Jacob raised his eyebrows high as he hummed, "Impressive tech, if not a little Orwellian for my taste." She gave him a confused look before he replied, "something from a book back home; it's on my phone, actually, as a PDF file I bought."

Still confused, Penny's eyes began to stare off into the void as she clearly began deciphering the phone's systems. It made sense, after all, that the two were working off of what were essentially completely foreign operating systems; it was like someone speaking Chinese to a Navajo without a linguist on standby to help either side out.

There was an awkward silence as Jacob waited for her to fully try to compute the phone's systems, and even then, he wasn't sure about it at all; could she even break the barriers of the different systems? If she did, would one or the other act like a virus to the other, or would they cancel each other out altogether? He shuffled uncomfortably at the idea of either as he watched and waited.

A minute passed. Another two.

Five.

Seven.

The suspense was agony, and by his reckoning it would probably take hours for her to sort through all of the lines of code.

His answer came after 15 minutes of waiting.

"I'm in," she announced without warning, jolting Jacob in surprise.

"Jesus Christ, Penny," he began, "first of all, you scared the hell out of me. Second, seriously? I was expecting it to take a few hours."

"Admittedly it took a lot quicker than I expected too," she said, "but I found that the OS of your phone is not unlike that of the CCT systems, or of Atlesian computers for that matter. My father created me with the strongest Atlesian processors and computation systems available to the Army, so I am more or less designed to access computers easily, including anti-malware support systems."

"So, you're also equipped for cyber-warfare," he dryly concluded. "Are they expecting you to save the world from Salem, or to "assume direct control" of the world?"

His sarcastic rhetoric buzzed in one ear and out the other as she announced, "Downloading all videos on: _RWBY_ , Volumes 1, 2, 3 and 4." Her eyes began to glow, like they were a computer monitor waking up. Jacob sat back as she continued, worried that she may overreact to the footage of her death; then again, she hadn't reacted particularly terrified to learning about it earlier. Actually, that brought up a good point; she had acted emotionally to being discovered, but she was stoic and admittedly clueless upon discussing the future and _her death_ with Jacob. What was with the sudden swap of emotional ranges?

Several minutes passed, and Penny remained upright, staring ahead with glowing eyes. She seemed to be aware of things, as every so often someone would walk past them and her gaze would follow them, but otherwise she did seem unusually stiff l in her posture. Jacob sat in boredom as he waited, twiddling his thumbs as he waited.

Another minute.

Two. Three. Four.

 _Then again,_ Jacob thought to himself, _each Volume is about an hour to two hours long. Maybe I should have had her read the Blu-Ray instead?_

After ten minutes, the glow left her eyes, though the look on her face was one that screamed "hurt" to him.

"Ruby..."

That word hurt something deep in his chest., just beneath his heart if that made any sense.

"First me... then Yang... and then Pyrrha." She hugged herself as if guilty or scared—there was that human side again, it was like watching a different breed of bipolar than what traditionally was called that, only now he _sort of_ understood what was going on.

"Hey," he began, reaching out to take her hand in his, "it's not your fault."

"I understand," she replied a bit slowly, her eyes darting about as she clearly was processing the footage, "but still... where I not dismantled everyone wouldn't have panicked, and the Grimm wouldn't have swarmed Vale."

Jacob shook his head. "Still not your fault," he replied, "It's all Cinder's fault."

At her name, Penny looked up in revelation. "The Fall Maiden," she said, "those legends... they're true?"

Jacob shrugged. "Apparently," he said, "they are. Even I'm at a loss in regards to what they're all about outside of having elemental powers and being the keys to these—"

"—Those relics," she finished. "General Ironwood always told me that I would have something to do with relics and protecting the world, but I never could have computed this."

Jacob shifted as a thought bubbled to the surface. "Speaking of computing," he began, "I hate to be the Puritanical Killjoy here, but something's been nagging at me all day, Penny; When we first met, you didn't have the foggiest clue about emotions and those nuances. When did you start taking the metaphorical Communications class?"

Penny looked up at him and replied, "While my father was in Vale to meet with General Ironwood, he installed an additional patch into my systems that would help me with human emotions and communication. It's a prototype, so, my "emotions" are... at best, not well-concealing, and hardly 'nuanced', I'll confess."

"An emotion chip," he replied, processing it himself, "Cool. Data from _Star Trek: TNG_ would be scrambling to get his hands on that thing."

She gave him another confused look before he replied, "another reference from home, I'll tell you about it later."

"Right. Regardless," she continued, handing back his phone, "I can't let Ruby be hurt like this, nor can I let Pyrrha or Yang be hurt either. If they're important to you and to Ruby, of course they're important to me too!"

 _Under normal circumstances that would sound kinda like something a sociopath with no understanding of empathy would say,_ he thought to himself, _but it is Penny, so there's really no harm nor foul intended._

"Well then," Jacob began, rising up and crossing his legs as his back bent forward slightly as he rested his elbows on his thighs, like some overgrown child sitting Indian style, "What do you think we should do?"

"I... I'm actually am not certain," she replied, "I'll need time to come up with a proper plan and run it against the odds of everyone surviving, as well as other variables. But therein lies a problem."

Jacob's brow cocked. "define 'problem' for me."

She stood up and hugged herself tightly. "The Imperials, and the Eightfold Path."

"...Ah. Right."

"They now are a piece of this, and that will throw variables into difficult patterns to try and decipher. I'll do what I can, but... even with my advanced logistics systems, there's only so much I can do." Her sheepish admittance to her limits had an endearing quality to it as she dug her metal-reinforced foot into the earth beneath it, creating the beginnings of a trench.

Jacob sighed. "Fair enough," he replied, "though even then we don't have all the pieces. In all honesty, Penny, I would say we adhere to canon as close as we can, adjusting for minor deviances and praying for no major deviances."

Penny held her chin in contemplation. "I suppose that is both the safest, and yet the least safe path. If we fail at the crucial point... then all three of us may still perish during the invasion."

Jacob grimaced. "I know... but it's the best I've got for now."

Penny stared at him with a blank look, seeming to estimate what he was thinking and weighing it against everything she could think of off the top of her head if the sense of vacancy in the back of her eyes said anything. She sighed as well. "I guess you're right. But I will continue to look into it."

"I'd be remiss if you didn't, Penny."

There was a buzzing sound as Penny blinked in surprise and reached back to retrieve her own Scroll. "Oh! That would be General Ironwood! I should get going!"

"Right, right," Jacob replied, "We'll talk about this later. And we don't talk about it to another soul until we both agree on it, okay?"

Penny nodded, smiled and furrowed her brow in determination. "Right." She held out her hand. "For Pyrrha and Ruby."

Jacob looked for a second at the hand before returning the smile and taking her hand. "For Pyrrha and Ruby," he replied, the expected vice grip that was a grasp from her instead only a gentle handshake.

With that, Penny turned around and began walking, looking one last time to give him a small, warm but worried smile before walking away towards the city.

Jacob stood there for a solid two minutes, watching her and both wanting to laugh and to cry out in panic. The chips were down, the enemy was becoming known and the secret was getting out. How long could he keep this up now? What could he do?

"Hey, Jacob!"

Jacob perked up at the sound of Yang's voice. He turned around to see both teams coming up to him, bookbags slung on their shoulders and backs respectively.

He couldn't help the smile that grew on his face.

 _I'll do what Americans_ — _or, rather, Terrans_ — _do best,_ he thought as he and Pyrrha locked eyes _._

 _I'll fight like Hell._

 _Oo-rah._

* * *

When darkness crept upon Vale, there was always a fight of light and darkness what mirrored the eternal struggle of life on Remnant. From the forests surrounding the city, where the Grimm wandered freely in their shrouded, blacked bodies under the canopies, the pitch night always reached into the city, hoping to gather some foothold to swallow the city in naught but the broken grin of the fractured moon. But where darkness advances, the light of a thousand street lamps, thousands of cars and thousands of homes beat back the encroaching shadow.

The eternal battle of light and dark never ended, never changed no matter where it was. How poetic.

Ciaphas Cain pinched his brow as a headache attempted to worm its way from his brow into the rest of his skull. Of all the things he had heard now, this was unexpected at best.

He sat beside Vulkan and Logan at the table in Titus and Mira's hotel room, the table expanded out for far more people. The entire table was surrounded by Imperials of all walks of life now, Space Marines and Guardsmen, Inquisitors and Commissars and the lone progeny of one of them seated amongst them as well. The lamps remained on in the room but most of them sat in dim lighting, all staring intently at the Ultramarine seated at the head of the table. When Cain had first arrived at the room, he was surprised that they had splurged for what amounted to a suite with a kitchen and several beds, even having a medium-sized living room-type setup in the front to entertain guests. For a suite, it was not exactly lavish, but not exactly lacking either.

At the table, almost a dozen bowls sat in various degrees of consumption from a basic North Mistrali dish that Mira had learned years ago; some of the bowls still carried their payloads of noodles, steamed veggies and boiled eggs in a broth, others left only the broth, but most were empty but for the tiniest drops and pieces of food. Various drinks also populated the table, mostly sodas or juices. Cain and Darnath were the only ones with alcohol in their systems at the moment, the commissar opting to make himself a dry gin martini—Atlesian vodka in a martini was vile, at least according to Amberley—and the former Third Company Captain of the Imperial Fists opting for a can of a local beer. Cain couldn't help but remember his time with Jurgen and the 597th sitting in a circle like this, having glasses of amasec and enjoying their time as much as they could in the middle of a campaign.

Now, however, any semblance of a good mood was out the window.

The room was quiet like the grave as they let what Titus and Mira said sink in.

"You can't be serious," Luce Spinoza finally said as she rubbed her temples from beneath near-platinum blonde hair.

"He is pulling your leg," piped up Gabriel, clearly wanting an alcoholic drink of his own as he paced in the back.

Mira and Titus looked up from their bowls, hardly touched and most likely starting to get cold. "Believe me," Titus began, "at first I was having a hard time believing it too."

"But what he said is still rather alarming even if he was only partially telling the truth—"

"What," growled Gabriel, "that he hails from a version of Holy Terra where we are the product of... of _fiction_?"

"More along the lines that an invasion is headed for Vale," Logan replied, his hands wringing one another as he stared down at the table in contemplation.

Cain rubbed his brow. "I've hear some weird things in my time," he began, "but this a new one on me."

Vulkan remained rather quiet, holding his chin in contemplation as he watched his teammates. At her mother's side, Delia was twiddling her thumbs as she registered all of this herself; unlike most born on Remnant, she was far from unaware of the Imperium of Man. But with this new development, it wouldn't be a stretch to expect her in the middle of a crisis.

Speaking of which, Cain's head was swimming. If this was true that Mr. Muller's world birthed their own as a brainchild for some... some _game_ , did that mean his stories were all for naught? Was his rotten luck at the hands of some sociopathic writer with nothing better to do then get Cain into ever-more impressive perils?

Around him, a slow cacophony had begun to build, like the start of a Noise Marine's solo, though it was made of the voices of his friends. He sipped from his martini again, the gin going down just right along his palate. Cain would have begged the Emperor to have this all be just a joke, but the conviction that he had come to know in Titus' eyes was on full display here.

That only made Ciaphas more concerned.

"How do you know he isn't tricking you," Delia finally piped up, her voice rising over the din. "How do you know he isn't, say, an Alpha Legionnaire who managed to get here too?"

Ciaphas could almost see the faintest line of a smile on Luce's face. _The Inquisitorial apple doesn't fall far from the tree,_ he reminded himself.

"Because he had this with him."

A large but thin book landed on the table, clearly a paperback by all account. Everyone maneuvered around it to see what it was, some scrambling over the others to get a better view:

The image of a roaring commissar filled the front, a great scowl across his face as he stared out towards whatever enemy he faced. In the background a flag with an Imperialis flew high in a strong breeze, the massive, all-too-easy-to-spot barrel of a Basilisk poking out from the background. Beneath the Commissar a myriad of Guardsmen ran about, sporting the iconic Cadian Shock Troop patterns of armor, all the while a clear afternoon sun cast the lot in a dim, menacing yellow-red glow.

"… _Codex: Astra Militarum_?" asked Darnath.

Cain felt his brow cock up in confusion. " _Warhammer 40,000_? _"_

"There's more," Mira replied. "There's one for the Space Marines, too, and he was holding one of these for Traitor Astartes too."

Gabriel and Cain both looked up in surprise, though Gabriel's look seemed to also share a hint of outrage at that too.

"There are also ones for all major xenos races too, apparently."

An angered growl. Gabriel was disliking Jacob with each passing moment.

Logan was flipping the pages of the book, tracing the writings with his meaty finger. They group sat in silence as they read through with him, their astonishment only growing; historical records of low count but highly important battles in the Guard's long service, details on the various Regiments of note, details on the traditional units of the Astra Militarum—not just the Guard proper but those of the Militarum Tempestus and even the Militarum Auxilia too—and even famed names like Cain's fellow commissar Sebastian Yarrick and Ursarkar Creed.

Then they reached the pages showing models, and Cain could have sworn up and down on the _Lectitio Divinitatus_ that everyone's eyebrows reached for the sky. Models of Cadians, of Catachans and Mordians and Tallarn and a few others including his own Valhallans.

"By the Throne," he heard Gabriel say, though he was too enrapt by the book before him to look up at the Blood Raven and acknowledge him.

The next few pages after that were rules about "orders" that required "Leadership checks" to issue to troops, as well as other rules, such as "weapon stats" and other such things.

They reached the unit rules and by then, it was very clear by the lowering tension and underlying dread rising in the air that everyone was in agreement; Mr. Muller was telling the truth.

"I'm gonna have to go back on that cold-turkey business," Logan said as he ran a hand through his blonde hair.

"So that's it then," Luce replied. "We never existed. Not to him at least, and that means that this world too..."

"I wouldn't jump to that conclusion."

Everyone's gaze fell upon Vulkan He'Stan, still seated at his original spot, still holding his chin as his elbows rested on the table in front of his bowl.

"What do you mean," Mira asked the Salamander.

"I mean that perhaps the Warp has been causing far more hijinks in far more realms than just our own." He stood up and began to pace, his hands now clasped behind his back. "While I am neither Librarian nor Sorcerer, I do have a general idea of how the Warp works. Just as it bleeds into our reality, perhaps it also bleeds into his, albeit at a far weaker level than in the Imperium."

Cain stood upright, arms crossed in front of him. "Meaning...what, Vulkan?"

"Perhaps Mr. Muller's reality can see our own as well as those of other realities that the Warp has some access to, manifesting in dreams and ideas that become—"

"—Become their media," Gabriel finished. "The Imperium is real, but to them it is but the creation of an active imagination."

Vulkan shrugged. "Granted, this speculation on my part is as educated as an Ork, but we know plenty of people out there who can help in this matter."

Gabriel bristled as Cain put two and two together. "You're suggesting we call Sugedai in?"

"I'm suggesting we send out a Yellow Alert to _everyone,_ " Vulkan replied, "inform everyone and get as many of our brothers and sisters here as soon as possible."

Cain cracked his knuckles. "Right then," he said, walking to the laptop Mira had taken with the two of them, "I'll go ahead and put out the message."

Pulling up a series of commands he had long-since memorized, he entered into a backdoor comm-system. The symbol of the Imperial Aquila flashed across the screen before a series of communiques popped up across the screen; several dozen Imperials keeping in contact at all times, giving each other details on new arrivals, whereabouts of Traitors, keeping contact casually, et cetera. He locked his fingers and moved to pop, the sound of crackling reaching his ears. He began to type, saying aloud at the same time his message under his ID:

"'All Imperials respond, Yellow Alert in Vale. If you can correspond, report in ASAP. Potential Eightfold Path activity and increase in Grimm activity. Repeat, please report in ASAP. The Emperor Protects. -Commissar_Cain.'"

With a harsh tap of the Enter button, the message went live, awaiting reception from the many servants of The Emperor that now lived on Remnant. Hopefully, most would get the memo and be able to arrive. Hopefully.

"Message is out, now we wait," he announced to the crowd, now loosely clustered together and clearly beginning to plan things.

"Right," Vulkan began as he got up out of his chair, "I should alert Ozpin to this information. If the city is in danger we must shore up General Ironwood's defenses as soon as possible to secure the city for the Vytal Festival."

Cain noticed Mira and Titus glance at one another in an unassured way. Warning bells were already sounding off; what was that all about?

 **Knock-knock-knock-knock!**

Everyone unified their gaze on the door. Ciaphas felt his left hand unconciously touch the back of his Dust laspistol, still holstered at his side and loaded with a few shots.

"...I suppose I'll get it," Titus said as he moved to get up, braced up in concern. He moved to the door and the tension in the room skyrocketed. Was it another Imperial? Or worse.

He moved to open the door, and seemed to look down at something.

"...Mr. Muller."

"...Captain. I, uhm, I-I hope I wasn't interrupting something..."

* * *

 **Secret's out, and the Imperium is amassing the Crusade! Let's just hope they'll be up for the challenge when Jacob appeals his case to them.**

 **Next chapter, Jacob gets a heart-to-heart with them all, the first few Imperials get their messages and an alliance is formed.**

 **Also,I'm hyped like hell right now; my city finally got it's own GW store and the cards for the Limited Edition Terminator Chaplain have started making the rounds. My wallet may hate me, but for my 21st birthday on the 18th I got a solid chunk of change on spare I can put to use. What to do, what to do...**

 **Oh yeah, and now I'm 21 irl. Still no urge to drink tough. Weird to think about, in all honesty.**

 **Review, follow, Favorite, all of that stuff helps give me the insight and drive to keep doing this. As of this chapter we're closing in on 200 favorites! Small potatoes to some, but to me that means so much! But anways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I will see you all in the next Chapter. Buh-bye~!**


	24. Crouching Eagle, Hidden Aquila

**Apologies for the lateness of this chapter, but it's finals month and everyone decided it was a good idea to frontload a metric ton of projects and essays just before the finals on their students.**

 **Well, hopefully this chapter will put everyone in a good mood...**

 **I hope.**

* * *

 **Chapter 24: Crouching Eagle, Hidden Aquila**

" _An alliance of civilizations can be our most powerful weapon in the fight against terror."—Frederica Mogherini_

* * *

From a dinner with the RWBY gang to a meeting with Space Marines. It sounded like something out of a horrid multiverse fanfic he used to read when he was younger—like, "13-years-old" younger.

The tick-tock of a wall clock echoed like a great bell through the room, as if ticking away the moments before he would meet an untimely demise. He sat at the tail of a large, expandable wooden table in the kitchen of what could only be described as a hotel suite. The kitchen was open to the rest of the room, but the lower ceiling made it feel like it was a separate room, a cave inside of another, basically. The lights in the room were minimal at the moment; a lamp from somewhere in the living room-type area illuminated the room there, though instead he was confined beneath a yellow-glow ceiling fan of dark wood and brass fixtures. The room itself was rather darkly painted—neutral greens and browns drolly walked circles around the room, though at the moment Jacob couldn't say whether the wall or the floor was more fascinating to look at.

Jacob looked to his left. His eyes met the scrutinizing gaze of Gabriel Angelos, Chapter Master of the Blood Ravens. He was not exactly leering, so much as he was watching Jacob like a hawk. He stood above him, his stature now well and truly intimidating. In front of where the Blood Raven stood was Logan Grinmar, the Great Wolf of the Space Wolves, watching him with a furrowed brow and eyes full of worry—whether that was for Jacob himself or for the rest of their crowd remained to be seen. Ciaphas Cain sat next to him, not looking up from a long-since empty martini glass only now sporting an olive and the stick it was attached to, and next to him Darnath Lysander, the Imperial Fist with what was the strongest infantry-wielded Thunder Hammer in the 40k tabletop game.

Jacob looked to his right. Vulkan sat closest to him, a calming smile on his face as he sat with his elbows on the table and his hands locked together in a tent. Two blonde women stared back at him with scrutinizing stares of their own, though the younger one—probably his own age if he had to take a wild guess—had a twinge of fear to her gaze if the slight rise to her brow was any indication of that. With hair and facial features like that it was not difficult to recognize the older woman as Luce Spinoza, the Interrogator from _The Carrion Throne._ And judging by what he remembered from last night, the younger girl was her and Lysander's daughter. _'Rey' she called herself_?

And sitting at the head of the table, Titus and Mira sat with folded hands and nervous looks of their own.

 _Today's been nothing but mindfuck after mindfuck,_ Jacob thought to himself.

They had sat there in silence for a few minutes, the tension in the air making him feel like he's being tried for treason. His heart was pounding, only alleviated by the attempt at a smile Mira had given him earlier and Vulkan's calming demeanour. Even then, it wasn't enough to counteract being stared down upon by an assemblage of the Imperium's mightiest heroes—minus the stupidly overpowered ones like Kaldor Draigo and Cato Sicarius.

Jacob cleared his throat and half of them braced up like they expected him to turn into a Daemon Prince. _If I don't diffuse the tension soon, I'm gonna look worse than a cultist in front of an Interrogator-Chaplain._

"I, uh, I've heard of Imperial hospitality, but this is ridiculous."

Silence.

One strong huff of air out through someone's nose, like the start of a laugh. Vulkan's smile grew a little larger. Mira and Titus smile a little, as did the shadow of one begin to manifest on Logan's chiseled visage. Cain audibly chortled.

Gabriel, Darnath, Spinoza and their daughter remained stoic as ever, though the girl did have the faintest twinge of a smile for a flickering second.

 _Not a bad start, I guess._

"A clever start," the Inquisitor hummed through her teeth. Vulkan tapped her with his elbow.

"Perhaps we should be a little less hostile to the lad," Logan said as he seemed to lean back into his chair slightly.

"There is no reason to ease up on a potential Traitor," Gabriel said, arms still crossed. Jacob looked at him with a confused stare: what happened to the calm and jovial guy he met on the Vale docks all those weeks ago, who was calm and mentor-like?

"Gabriel," Mira said in a tone both scolding and pleading, "let him speak."

"Well, what about," Jacob replied, "what do you want—or, Hell, _need_ me to talk about?"

Silence. Most of them looked around at one another with looks of confused realization or surprise.

"How about your name," said the girl.

Jacob blinked and shrugged. "Jacob Muller."

"Your _real_ name."

He blinked again. She stared back at him.

Now Jacob was getting annoyed. "What do you want me to say? 'I am Alpharius'? You asked for my name and you got it."

"Rey" drew back and looked around before zeroing in on him again. "Alright then," she began, "where are you from?"

Jacob shifted in concern. How would they react to the fact that he was from the Throneworld? He looked to Mira and Titus, who only nodded in approval, almost a parental movement that reminded him of his parents.

Again, the sting of an unreachable home. He sighed. "Terra. 3rd Millennium Terra, actually, back when we still called... it... Earth." He felt awkward about the phrasing of that one, thinking to himself that it came across a little asinine.

They all—sans Mira, Vulkan, Cain and Titus—stared at him like he was absolutely mad.

Jacob's eyes darted around the room. How could he prove it to be the truth, especially to all the skeptical ones in their ranks?

"You don't believe me," he assumed.

Ciaphas Cain cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. Logan Grimnar tugged at the collar of his t-shirt—not a sentence Jacob ever imagined having to cobble together, even in his head—as Vulkan continued to stare. Gabriel sighed heavily.

It was Vulkan who eventually replied. "It's certainly out there," he began slowly, testing what to say, "but not out of the realm of possibilities."

"Bullshit," Lysander replied. "I still don't believe it."

Jacob nodded as he rolled Vulkan's response in his mind. "Well then, Captain Lysander," Jacob began, a small perverse side of him wanting to push his luck and his authority, "Explain... these."

As Darnath seemed to bristle a bit at the mention of his old title, Jacob began rifling into his backpack, now resting beside his feet. He brought a quadruplet of books up high and slapped them onto the table with a loud _thunk._

The hardback covers of the Space Marine, Blood Angel, Grey Knight and Space Wolf codices stared back at the assemblage.

He reached down again, having brought more: he didn't know if he would need all of them, but he was glad he had thought a step ahead for a change as he slammed down the Skitarii, Deathwatch and Imperial Agents codices too, as well as the old Tyranid, Eldar, and Ork codices as well. Lastly, he reached deep into the bag, but hesitated at the last second; he had already pulled enough out, did he really need to overkill it?

... _It's Warhammer 40k,_ he concluded after a few seconds, _overkill is regular to them._

With a final grunt, he pulled out the last three codices in his bag that he had been able to carry along tonight and plopped them onto the table.

 _Codex Supplement: Traitor Legions_ , 6th Edition's _Codex: Chaos Space Marines_ and 7th Edition's _Codex: Chaos Daemons – Daemonic Incursion Edition_.

Silence again consumed the room. Several of the more pious members—particularly Spinoza, Gabriel and even Titus—bristled at the later, non-Imperial codices. Everyone looked up at him with shocked, outraged or fascinated gazes, even Mira getting in with a face of surprise at the latter menagerie.

For a second, Jacob felt like he was sitting at the top of the heap, before that realization that he now walked a razor's edge-thick line set into the back of his mind. He was now teetering between getting his ass kicked 30 ways to Kingdom Come and being blasted with a thousand questions, and it could tilt any which way.

"...Well," Cain said as he swallowed hard, "that's certainly something."

Jacob nodded and shrugged. "Technically," he began, "I've actually only owned most of the Imperial codices back home, sans the toaster fu—I mean Skitarii—one. There's one for every major faction the Imperium of Man fights as well, and I only brought these since they were all I could fit, even taking out my textbooks... as well as it would get a point across. Also, I noticed that my Guard codex went MIA, so I presumed you had taken it to report back to the gang, as it were."

While he had been talking, everyone besides the Ultramars had taken a codex and began plowing through it, only the Chaos Daemons one being left; then again, considering the Imperium, that wasn't too surprising. Mira smiled weakly and rubbed the back of her neck as Titus twiddled his thumbs and grimaced. "Sorry," they replied lowly in unison. Jacob simply shrugged as if to say, _"you were curious, nothing wrong with that."_

Vulkan and 'Rey' were hunched over the Ork codex, reading it as if it would unlock untold secrets about the Greenskins; then again, it was kind of a non-biased dossier on the Orks, so it it'd give a little more info than most Imperial Scholars could get the gist of. Lysander was perusing the vanilla Marines codex, Logan had taken to his own codex, Cain was reading the Eldar codex—though his brow spoke volumes of what he was thinking about the "fucking elves"—and Spinoza was reading through the Imperial Agents book. Gabriel stood over Lysander's shoulder, reading from the codex as well, the skeptical scowl slowly wearing away to some degree of shock.

Ten minutes passed, then another ten, all the while the group muttering amongst themselves and occasional glance at him. Jacob didn't know whether he was setting himself up for an early grave or propagating an alliance.

It was Vulkan who finally said something, pushing the Ork codex away from he and "Rey". "Okay then," he began, "I would say we all believe him now, right?"

There was a chorus of agreements—some vehement, others with besmirchment and a tinge of grumbling to them—echoed around the table.

Cain cleared his throat. "Considering the 'Copyright Games Workshop 2012' in the front of this book and presumably the others, I can agree with that."

Rey was leaning forwards towards him, bright eyes sparkling with questions. "You really _are_ from Holy Terra! More than that, from the beginning of the Age of Terra, no less!"

Cain leaned forwards too, tenting his fingers over one another. "Never thought I would get to meet someone _born_ on the Throneworld," he said as he began wringing his hands.

"Was the Emperor in any position of power at the time? Was he even around at that time? Was it green and lush like the scriptures said, or had it already become a nuclear wasteland?"

Logan stuck out a muscular arm to hold her back. "Easy, Delia," he said, "I'm not sure he can answer _every_ question we have, considering that he's not from _our_ past."

"Oh," was all she said before beginning to back off.

"Well," Jacob began, hoping to throw the girl a metaphorical bone, "in _your_ timeline, Big E was hiding away from the limelight circa 2017, working on getting his psychic powers up to par; then again, he had already been working on it for 10,000 years before that, so why it took him _that_ long is up for debate. And your third question... yes and no, Earth was—is, I mean, or whatever—a temperate planet, lots of different biomes for life; grasslands, deserts, jungles, ice caps, scrublands—I myself hail from a kinda scrubland-river valley area, but that's not important—arboreal forests, alpines and savannahs just to name the common ones."

Everyone stared at him in fascination; no doubt the history of Holy Terra had been diluted and written in far different tones than what he knew. Getting a history lesson from someone who to their world was sitting pretty as the second-oldest human chronologically outside of The Big Guy Himself would have been a treat that Imperial historians and Mechanicus flunkeys would've slaughtered each other over.

But Jacob wasn't really here just to give history lessons. He was here to get their help.

"This is fine and lovely," began Titus, clearing his throat, "but there's something more important than a history lesson that he wants to talk with us about."

 _Can't believe I'm thinking this,_ Jacob thought with a physical sigh as he realized what he needed to do, _but thank God for AND God damn the Ultramarines._

He slid his phone out from his pocket, still registering 30% of its battery. Again, he traced the path through his files to Volume 3, this time stopping at Chapter 9: _P.v.P_.

"What are you showing us," asked Logan, an edge of concern in his voice.

Jacob tried to decide what to say. Perhaps being blunt was the best path:

"If everything goes according to our Enemies' plan and my plan goes awry... an hour's worth of footage from the future."

He hit play.

 _Let the emotional roller coaster begin anew._

He sat there and let them watch in rapt awe, an entire crew of Space Marines and Guardsmen and an Inquisitor huddled closely around a phone on the far end of the table from him. A few minutes in and Darnath looked up from his spot with an incredulous look, but Jacob simply waved and pointed to the phone to insist he keep watching.

17 minutes passed and amidst the sounds of gasps and huffs of anger and such Jacob could make out the sounds of Cinder's villainous soliloquy. He rolled his eyes as she prattled on about the untrustworthiness of the Headmasters and the Kingdoms, all the while a tiny part of his brain conjured up new and fantastical ways to make her suffer for her crimes... that she hadn't committed yet.

 _In hindsight,_ Jacob thought, _under normal circumstances, that's a bit touched in the head._

The chapter ended and the Imperials all looked up at him as he resignedly moved to the next chapter.

Before he could hit play, though, he was stopped by a vice grip so tight it actually let out a small cry of pain. His eye followed the trail from the massive hand that now gripped his arm.

The line his eye traced ended at the scowling face of Gabriel Angelos.

"What. Was. That."

"L-Like I said, Lord Angelos, sir," Jacob said perhaps a bit shakily as the grip threatened him with agony only the Chaos-worshipping lot knew, "an hour's worth what is—or more likely _was_ —the future. You saw it with your own eyes."

He said nothing, but the critical stare told volumes of what he was thinking about Jacob at the moment. "Why are you showing us this?"

Jacob sighed. "Because... because I need your help. All of your help. But you need to see all of it to understand why."

"I think we've seen enough," Darnath replied, getting up. Jacob looked over at the precise moment Titus' hand shot out to Darnath's wrist.

"Not quite," he said morosely. "Jacob, I would ask if we can skip ahead to... to Episode 12. Make this quicker."

A hum of apprehension left Jacob's throat. "Faster it may be, but it might be better if everyone is fully up to speed on what is supposed to happen, so that way we can... y'know, figure out what needs to be done to act against it."

Titus nodded. "Very well," he replied, "I'll start up the next one."

So, it continued again, the sound of sirens and screaming and warfare resonating from the tiny speakers as the Grimm invaded in _Battle of Beacon._ Titus and Mira hugged closer to one another when a somber piano rang out over Pyrrha staring over Penny's quartered body. Several of them tensed up once the Nevermore broke through the barrier.

For another 17 minutes they were glued to the screen. Admittedly, Jacob didn't know whether to be nervous or bored at this point. Every so often, Jacob found himself glancing down at his watch to see the time: 6:40 by now, and Jacob had a 20-minute brisk walk back to the Academy for sparring night. Considering that Chaos Marines were now a threat as well, he honestly needed every ounce of training he could muster if he was going to get them all out of there alive.

Finally, _Battle of Beacon_ ended and they collectively turned their attention on Jacob, a tired, worried—maybe a bit angry—collective stare leveled at him.

Jacob took a deep breath as the wracked nerves slowly began to manifest again. "Those were focused on the full story," he began, "The, uh, overall scale to... well, Team RWBY and Team JNPR." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"We noticed," Cain said dryly. "So, what Mira and Titus were saying is true then. Remnant is a fictitious world where you come from."

"...Yep," Jacob said slowly.

"And your only lens of reference is all focused around Ms. Rose and her team, as well as Pyrrha's team."

"Pretty much."

Cain scratched his mutton chops in thought "Something tells me there's more to it. Something that you told Mira and Titus that you haven't told us."

Jacob processed the observation before turning to Titus and Mira. "You didn't tell them?"

Titus inhaled heavily. "I thought it may perhaps better that you give them the... primary focus of yours."

"But she's your goddaughter," Jacob said in an emphasizing tone.

"Pyrrha? What about her?"

Both turned their gazes at Delia, only to be met with a look of surprise mixed with personal concern and threatened defensiveness. Bright, blue eyes stared back at him with that gut-twinging look that dimly mirrored his own fears.

"What's going to happen to Pyrrha?"

Jacob blinked in surprise. "You know her?"

Delia nodded. "She and I were friends through our parents. We lost touch years ago but we still call one another from time to time. But that's beside the point," she replied, getting into his personal bubble. The bright sapphires in her eyes sparkled with worry. "You said something was going to happen to Pyrrha. What?"

Jacob found himself hesitating. Just telling them all of this put his plan horribly on the line, but this could push them over the edge into spreading word out of his control.

He locked eyes with Titus and Mira. Both nodded ever so slightly, pleading looks in both sets of eyes.

He sighed. _Here we go._

"I... showed Captain Titus and Ms. Nero—sorry, Mrs. Ultramar—the last episode of Volume 3 just before we parted ways for the day." He got up from his seat and began to pace. "Earlier during the Vytal Festival Tournament, Pyrrha is approached by Professor Ozpin... and she is offered the status as—wait a second." He stopped and turned to Vulkan. "Is everyone here aware of the Fall Maiden?"

There was a collective nod from everybody.

"Almost all of us have been inducted into Ozpin's Inquisition," Vulkan replied, nodding his head to indicate Delia, "but everyone here is aware of the Maidens and their powers."

Jacob nodded in reply. "Right, well, in that case... Ozpin offers Pyrrha the title of Fall Maiden, despite Amber still being alive." The Imperials glanced around to one another as if to confirm what they had heard. "Right now, she's interred in some kind of... advanced, I guess stasis field would be the closest equivalent, right? Anyway, she is propositioned by Oz, Ironwood, Glynda and Qrow to be... subject to a theoretical they are desperate to attempt." He paused for a second to take a deep breath. "They want—I should say _will want_ —to transfer Amber's Aura, really in a way her soul, and... and put it in Pyrrha so that she can keep the other half of the power safe."

At "put it in Pyrrha," half of the group stood up in outrage.

"They _what!?"_ Gabriel roared.

"They can't do that!" Logan replied, flinging his hands into the air in exasperation.

The room became subject to a small shouting fest, most roaring in rejection, though Jacob knew they weren't really shouting _at_ him, per say. Vulkan remained the only one to not shout, though the fire in his eyes deceived the stolid face he wore.

Mira stood up, the Cadian's fury rushing through her almost visibly. "And what happens then!? What if Pyrrha is... is overwritten by Amber like some daemonic possession? What if they meld together and become someone entirely new? What then!?"

"They don't get that opportunity... at least not entirely."

Jacob's reply quieted them all down.

"During... during the invasion of Vale, the lady who was on the comm, Cinder Fall... she was Amber's attacker. She stole the Fall Maiden's powers—or, at least part of them—and put Amber in that coma she's in _right now_."

Jacob noticed Titus' eyes seem to light up with recognition at Cinder's name being mentioned. He must have seen her in one of the classes she was "attending".

"She breaks in and, despite a rushed attempt at the procedure... she shoots and kills Amber and manages to steal the rest of the Maiden's powers."

There was a pregnant pause accented with more looks of outrage for a moment before he continued. "Pyrrha and her teammate, Jaune, escape the tower only for Cinder to rocket up to Ozpin's office. Around the same time, some kind of... Grimm dragon makes itself known and lands up on the tower with Cinder. Pyrrha—whether out of guilt, or some sense of duty or some suicidal impulse no one could _begin to fathom_ —goes up there to fight Cinder."

His voice didn't crack, but he did notice his hands balling up in fury.

"She doesn't come back down. She fights like hell, but... an arrow in her heel, and an arrow in her heart... and Cinder doesn't even leave a body, but... decides to _fucking incinerate_ her."

He hand been turned away from them as he began the last bit. He didn't cry this time, but he did feel a boiling anger rising, as if her were some deranged servant of The Blood God.

He turned around and was met by a horrified Delia directly in front of him. Behind her, it was as if a storm of The Emperor's Wrath had become carnal. Titus and Mira were hugging close together again, though their eyes spoke angry thoughts and promises of protection. Vulkan's façade had failed him, a thoughtful glower as he stared down at the table in front of him, seemingly deep in thought. If emotions were Warp storms, Darnath and Luce would combine to be a miniature Maelstrom, both of them kneading their hands as their furrowed brows and slowly-creeping snarls grew greater in intensity. Logan was holding his hand to his mouth, eyes darting as he clearly thought over things. Gabriel had just begun to pace behind them all, a composure to his thousand-yard gaze into the ground beneath them.

"You're lying," Delia said weakly.

Jacob offered her only a weak nod and a melancholy, "I wish I was."

She turned to look at Titus and Mira. "Is this true?"

They looked up at her and only nodded.

Something shifted in her stance. She looked back to him, panic beginning to seep into her eyes. "We need to tell Ozpin this, now!" She began to move towards the door.

Jacob moved without thinking and grabbed her by the arm. "Wait," he said, a bit too forcefully for his taste. "If we do, then there's greater risks that I myself am not prepared to take."

She looked back at him. "What do you mean, 'wait'!?" Outrage oozed from every syllable. "Pyrrha is in danger, my cousin's life is on the line, and you tell me to _wait!?"_

"If we tell him and divert from canon this early, there's no telling what will happen! What happens if Cinder and Salem's forces just outright invade with no infiltration, what if they invade with 100,000 Grimm instead?" Jacob let go of her arm, realizing that his unintentinally-tightening grip was probably hurting. "My plan is to save Pyrrha, to save that girl, Penny, too, but if I diverge from canon too far, the rest of their teams could get hurt! What happens if I divert and the Invasion goes down anyway, but instead Pyrrha is the only one to live of her whole team!? What if Team RWBY is slaughtered by Alpha Grimm? There's some million-odd variables and I'm trying to work with what I have, and if I throw that away, then every other ounce of blood that was supposed to live through that night will be on _my_ hands!"

He found himself panting after that outburst, everyone staring at him intensely. You could have heard a pin drop by the front door to the room, it was so quiet.

"That's why I haven't told Ozpin," he finally said. "Because I'm trying to keep the cards in my favor in this life-and-death poker game right now, and I'm sitting on the equivalent of a royal flush. I can't just throw it away and pray that the next hand I get will be better! More than that... after the Invasion, Salem's forces have to regroup. Cinder is heavily wounded thanks to Ruby's Silver Eyes and, generally speaking, the hunt for Salem more or less begins... starting with going to Mistral for answers."

The Imperials' interest was piqued at the mention of Ruby's Silver Eyes. "Ruby uses her Silver Eyes," Cain said. "But how? I doubt she's had the training."

"Trauma can activate them prematurely," Vulkan replied, "from what I remember Summer telling me years ago; Losing two of your friends in one day, that would definitely be enough." He turned to Jacob. "You said that someone heads off to Mistral. Who?"

"Uh, Ruby and the rest of Pyrrha's team," Jacob replied. "They set off for Mistral at the start of winter for some odd reason. They only arrive in the closing weeks of summer, though."

Gabriel looked up. "I take it the rest of Ms. Rose's team does not go with her."

"They head separate ways to recover. I didn't get a chance to see Volume 5, but I imagine that the whole team meets back up by the time the Volume ends."

Silence consumed the room again.

"This is a lot to take in," Cain muttered under his breath.

Gabriel stopped pacing moved his hands up to the top of his head as if he had just finished a marathon. He huffed and said, "Too Emperor-damned much. I don't think I'll sleep tonight."

Vulkan took a massive breath before he spoke, getting everyone's attention. "I think that, for now, it would be wise to end this discussion here. Like Ciaphas said, this is a lot to process, and it may do us good to take this in overnight. Jacob," he began, "will it bother you to give us the two days until the weekend, so we all can talk about this?"

Jacob sighed. "Of course," he said with a nod, "if this were any other situation, I would question so many things right now... namely my own sanity. Besides, I've been skipping out on so many training sessions with Pyrrha and Jaune lately that I'm stagnating. If you'd like, I can leave you guys the Codices, just for your own research if you'd like; it's not like I have my armies or an enemy to play with anyway."

"If you would, please," Vulkan answered.

"...Alright. I'll go ahead and... take my leave. But, please, if not for my sake, then for everyone else's, keep this under wraps. Once we can all meet up again, then hopefully we can come up with a plan."

Everyone seemed to deflate with tire. He had just dropped a monolith-sized bombshell on them, and he in turn had been hit with his own emotional bludgeon of sorts. But letting them contemplate this overnight or even over the next few days could prove beneficial... in theory, that was.

He sighed and picked up his pack before turning to each and addressing them.

"Captains, Chapter Masters, Madame Inquisitor, Commissar... I hope you have a good night, all things considered. _Ave Imperator_."

" _Ave Imperator_ ," they replied back in a broken chorus of hesitance and weariness. Jacob walked towards the front door, unsure of whether to keep eye contact or just go for the door and bolt like hell. But as he walked, he found his gaze meeting the concerned godparents of Pyrrha Nikos, their combined gaze of urgency and tense fear leaving him at a loss.

He turned the knob to the door and before he even had begun rationalizing his plan, he was out the door and on his way down the hotel hallway towards the elevator.

 _I need to get my mind off this,_ he deduced, sighing as the tension left his body.

He glanced down at his watch as he briskly walked down the hallway. 7:00 sharp, an hour to get back to Beacon and then to sparring practice with Pyrrha and Jaune.

"Yeah," he huffed. "That'll do, pig. That'll do."

* * *

 **CLANG!**

 _High, left, low, right, shield bash, high again, low again... he's getting better at the combo._

She swung at his center, he leaned backwards, dodging her blade. Like a loaded spring, he launched an upward cleave towards her, missing her by centimeters as she flipped backwards to avoid it.

 _His left foot is too far forward, a Beowolf will take advantage of that._

 **SCHWING!**

She spun as she came out of her flip, extending her sword out into its spear form. Using that momentum from her spin, she swung wide and low, catching him across the leg and sending him to the ground. He landed head first, an audible cry of pain and surprise reaching her ears.

Pyrrha smiled as she resumed a normal stance, spear form of Milo in hand as she held it like a walking stick.

Jaune looked up, clutching his head. "It's fine," he groaned, "I'm alright."

Pyrrha laughed and helped him to his feet, grabbing his arm and hoisting him up. "In all fairness," she commented, " you should keep your feet closer to your center in the future. Your fight style is all about withstanding blows and then getting in close, so when I back off to attack you with Milo's spear form..."

"I get in close and force you to go to your sword mode, right."

Pyrrha nodded and smiled in approval. At least he was aware of what he needed to correct. She couldn't pretend like the last few days—heck, technically it had been on and off throughout the last few weeks—to train directly with Jaune hadn't been well and productive. On the one hand, Jaune's stances and fighting style was getting more disciplined and controlled, rather than uncoordinated like he was the first three months of their time together. His one successful spar with Cardin had been a lucky break, but he needed to get better, sad to say.

Sad, only because it felt like she was rewriting the blonde, clumsy partner that the gods were gracious enough to give her.

 _I don't know why I act like this around him_ , she thought to herself. _I haven't felt like this since that boy Azura back in primary school, but that was only a little crush. This feels... different._

Pyrrha didn't want to jump to a conclusion, but if what her mother said years ago was true... how could she deny what she felt?

She shook her head as she cleared the thoughts from her head before Jaune could notice any faces she was making. The heat in her face remained, albeit diminished in strength.

"Let's start over," he said, "I had a good feeling on that go around."

She nodded and replied, "Okay." The two took spots on the roof across from one another, Pyrrha taking the outer right corner while Jaune stood opposite of her, his back to the rest of the building. Both drew swords and bowed, a smile unconsciously manifesting between them.

She breathed deeply and without a second's hesitation her Aura sprang back to life, ready for a fight. She could feel its power deep in her chest: a small thrum of energy, of vitality and life, of happiness and strength rising. What had once upon a time taken her ages to get down she did practically instinctively now, without even needing to think about it really.

Across the way, Jaune stood with his eyes closed as he also took a deep breath. His Aura was larger and took more time to awaken, and his lack of practice awakening it had meant that a few months ago it took him nearly 3 whole minutes for him to fully power up. Now, he and Jacob were nearly neck-and-neck for who was fastest, both just under a minute each. With Jaune, it was rather amazing he was powering up so quickly; he really was a natural.

And yet Jacob still seemed to struggle a bit with his; had he been as fast at learning as Jaune, he could power up his Aura at nearly her her speed by now.

Pyrrha felt her smile fade just a little bit at that thought before she buried it away. With a nod, she let Jaune take the initiative on this go around.

And take it he did.

With an audible grunt, he launched forwards, sword raised high and shield up. Pyrrha met his charge with her own, though she kept Milo tucked back behind her and Akouo hiding her torso and neck as she charged low.

He began to swing down in a cleaving strike as they reached six feet from one another. Pyrrha's mind was already a step ahead, snaking to her left and cutting at his torso. The shield part of Crocea Mors made impact with Milo's edge, the ringing of metal on metal becoming music to her ears. Jaune spun as she had taught him, another cleaving strike coming horizontally at her. Their blades met with another ring as they continued their back-and-forth, Jaune holding Crocea Mors in both hands and Pyrrha answering the gesture with her own change to two-handed combat. It continued for another minute like this before Jaune moved to shove her with his shield. Akouo met his blow, the two now engaging in an intentional shoving match.

 _Good,_ she thought to herself, _he's not leaning too far into his shield._ She reached around and made a jab for Jaune's shoulder, only for him to do the one thing she told him not to do in a situation like this: He jumped back and exposed his chestpiece.

 _Chest is open, in comes the point of the spear._ As she thought this, she pressed the attack, slicing at his chest. Jaune let out an audible cry of surprise and he bounced back, nearly tumbling over himself. She backed off and let him get back to better ground; this was a practice session, after all, not a real-deal battle.

"Remember, Jaune," she said, "chest guarded."

He nodded and returned to his stance, the two beginning to circle one another as the stars dimly glimmered through the light of the city night life. Pyrrha couldn't help the comparison to a dance bouncing around in the back of her head.

Speaking of which, another thought crossed Pyrrha's mind. _The Vytal Dance is coming up soon. Maybe I should look into asking—_

Her Aura prickled as Jaune's blade jabbed right for her bosom, Crocea's point nearly tapping her physically. She backpedaled away as Jaune suddenly seemed to press his advantage more than usual. His sword beat against Akouo without relent, albeit his attacks seemed to lack any coordination, being more wild strikes peppered with hopeful attempts at breaking her defense. Admittedly, Pyrrha was being forced back, much to her surprise; she never got this distracted in a fight, even a practice one.

 _Gods, why am I like this around him? It's just a simple crush!_

In seconds the tables had been turned, with her now backed to the wall. Her Semblance was begging to be used, the iron in Crocea Mors within arm's reach to manipulate to her advantage.

And while she never advocated such extremes as rending or breaking a weapon, slight adjustments were not outside of her personal code of conduct. After all, she didn't actually hurt anyone by doing it, just deflected attacks.

Pyrrha managed to maneuver her shield arm to lock Crocea Mors in a melee lock of sorts. As she and Jaune dueled, she reached out ever so slightly, just like she always did. A tiny part of the back of her mind felt the metal in the area around her, quite literally.

The iron in the drainage pipes above her. The refined steel in Jaune's shield and also his sword, the same in his family's armor. The rivets and beams of the dormitory structure. Even that tiniest trace of iron in a person's blood, too little to actually manipulate but enough to faintly reverb into her Aura.

She suppressed her usual shudder at that last bit and concentrated on the sword; it was the only metal she had actually physically touched, thus was it the only one she could manipulate. She felt its weight, its movement, its composition. Just as always, she felt the archaic but masterful craftsmanship in the weapon, the folded steel's heft and its simple aerodynamics.

All of this in under a second.

She reached out her index and middle fingers from the hand holding her shield, gaining the full connection.

She flicked her finger aside just slightly. His swing moved off course ever slightly, not enough for the average person to notice, but just enough to change the sword's angle. It skidded along Akouo's face, the blade unable to get a grip on the rare alloy of bronzium and mithril.

Pyrrha couldn't help but notice the dampness growing on her brow. She couldn't help the smile that grew across her face.

Jaune was finally getting her to break a sweat.

And the pride from the revelation on grew as Jaune stumbled only a little before improvising with a wide upwards cut, using his stumble to give him the momentum for a tremendous swing. Pyrrha couldn't block that swing—not with his whole body behind that almost-out-of-control attack—and while she would normally put her Aura to use again here, she didn't want to overuse it for training sessions. She was forced to jump back, albeit crying in surprise in tandem with Jaune as gravity finally assumed control and dropped him to the floor.

Both were panting as they sat in silence for a few seconds, absorbing what they had just done. It had been clumsy on Jaune's part to go for the aggressive so early, but even she couldn't deny that she hadn't expected the last-ditch improvisation, even considering that this was Jaune she was talking about.

She remained standing, walking up to him sitting down next to him as he sat on his hands and knees. "That was a good improvisation on your part," she said. "But, that being said, you shouldn't have pressed the attack so soon into the fight."

Jaune looked at her hand and shakily replied, "R-right, that was... was totally an improv attack. I meant to do that."

Pyrrha found the underlying attempt at confidence beneath his shaky answer almost enough to giggle. As much as it was almost on repeat at times, moments like this still felt better than any of the training she ever went through back home.

Maybe it was because, for once, it wasn't Uncle Titus or her parents that were her sparring partner? Maybe it was just Jaune? Then again, she had the same feeling with Jacob being around for these sessions.

 _Speaking of which_ , she thought to herself, _where did he go this evening?_

"Uh, I think he said he wanted to talk with your uncle about something," Jaune said out of nowhere.

"Huh?"

Jaune looked at her and said, "your question, I was just saying that I think he went looking for your uncle to talk about something after dinner."

Pyrrha blinked and contemplated what had just happened, before coming to a very embarrassing conclusion: _Oh my gods, have I been thinking out loud?_

"R-right," she replied, feeling a fluster of embarrassment rise in her cheeks this time around. It was like a carousel of emotions with Jaune: Impress, amusement, affection, fluster and then back to business.

 _Next time I call mother, I might want to ask her about why that is... although, I think I have a good idea why that is._

There was a click and a creaking sound from the direction of the door to the inside. For a brief second, Pyrrha expected Cardin or someone else to pop through and ruin their secluded sparring... as well as her good mood.

A round face with a goatee-mustache peaked out from behind the door. "Uhm, hey guys. Did I... did I miss anything?"

Pyrrha let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in. "You forgot the tap," she said, half-irritated and half-relieved it was only Jacob.

He hummed in awkward embarrassment if the sheepish grin on his face was any indication of what he felt. "Right," he said, bringing a clenched knuckle up to the door. _Tap, tap, tap-tap-tap._

She responded with a bemused roll of her eyes and two raps in rapid succession on her shield.

"Speaking of 'shave an a haircut', I may need to make a run by Mr. Mahog later this week; I can feel my hair tickling the back of my neck." Jacob walked over to them, a noticeable drag to his gait as he joined them. He had Cadia and Titan in hand, though Pyrrha noticed his shoulders sagging and that Cadia hung down incredibly close to the ground, rather than hefted onto his shoulder as usual.

Pyrrha's brow furrowed. He had the entire day to himself, spending time with that Polendina girl that he and Ruby had grown attached to, and somehow he seemed more tired than usual. "Are you alright," she asked, "you look like my father does after a long mission."

Jacob seemed to hesitate before he answered. "I had a long evening talking with your, uh, _uncle_ and his friends about some things I have concerns about."

She and Jaune shared a look: Pyrrha was quick to figure that it must have been that Eliphas guy from their battle last night.

Jaune was quick to change the subject, though. "Well, at least you didn't get here too late," he offered weakly.

Pyrrha checked her Scroll as Jaune said that: 8:03.

"Yeah, I just noticed that," Jacob replied with a tired sigh, "I had a feeling that Pyrrha wanted to give you an early "one-on-one" before I got here."

The wink he offered her spoke volumes of what was going through his head. Pyrrha felt a second round of shocked and embarrassed blushing rise to her cheeks, this time of a much greater magnitude than before. She instinctively moved to cover her face, forcing her hand to cover only her mouth through sheer force of will.

She glanced for a second at Jaune as he replied, "Yeah, we were covering footwork and shifting stances."

"Ah," Jacob replied, "good stuff. You know what you're doing, I presume, considering you guys had almost a whole hour without me. That part maybe why I'm sucking in so many sparring matches."

Pyrrha felt a bit peeved at that remark; always pessimistic about his own combat skill, never once reveling in any solid progress he did make. "That's not true," she defensively replied, "you've made good progress and you've nearly come out on top a couple times."

Jacob sighed again. "I appreciate the sentiment, Pyrrha, but you and I both know I've got a ways to go before I really can compete with most of us. Those fights were so close only because I got _lucky_ or I was starting to outsmart my opponent, only for them to catch on too early for me to _coup-de-grace_ them."

While he was right, Pyrrha hated his tone about it. Jacob seemed at times disappointed with his progress, almost as if he thought he wasn't getting it fast enough; sure, at 20 years old he was leagues behind Huntsmen of equal age to him, but he was only just starting out as a Huntsman, just like Jaune. He didn't need to be hard on himself like this so frequently.

She came up to him and said with a sigh, "You really need to not be so hard on yourself. You'll get the hang of it in your own time, but no one learns to become a Huntsman in a night."

"Case in point, both of us," Jaune said over her shoulder.

Jacob held out a hand towards Jaune as he replied, "Right, right, all things considered you're not wrong. But still..." He seemed to pause, once again considering what he was going to say if the darting of his eyes were any indication. "Considering that as the de facto 9th member of our merry misfits I am, Jaune notwithstanding, the weak link, and you guys suffer for it. Sure, I'm the Lone Wolf, but a Lone Wolf should be able to hold his own and not be a hindrance to anyone else, according to Oz. At this point in time, I'm not exactly closing in on that level of, well, proficiency anytime soon."

The tone he spoke with unnerved Pyrrha to some extent, as if he was talking about something he was expecting to happen. Clipping Milo to her belt, she reached out a hand to his shoulder and gently cradled it, the urge to hug him in a sisterly or maternal way screaming at her to do so.

"You're thinking about that battle last night," she finally said after thinking it over.

Jaune chimed in. "You were thinking about how easily that Eliphas guy beat you, weren't you?"

Jacob didn't reply for a few seconds before sighing and answering, "Yes... among other things."

Pyrrha felt no reason to push on the "among other things" part to that comment, but she could help with the former part. "He was— _is_ —a well-trained fighter, you've only been fighting for, what now, four months? Jacob, you can't expect to become a master fighter in such a short time; it's going to be a long while before you can really keep up with any of us, honestly, and we've had the advantage of eight or more years of training!"

"I know, Pyrrha," he said with an audible tone of annoyance as he angrily sheathed Cadia into his belt, "I am _vehemently_ aware of that fact! Admittedly, part of this is stemming from my perfectionist side resurfacing, but at the same time I have an obligation to at least not be a burden on the first people to extend a hand and help me in this completely foreign world I find myself in, as well as I have some obligation to actually be able to do the job I am now tasked with!"

She couldn't help but wince at his outburst. For a second, not a word left anyone's mouth.

A look of horrified realization flashed across Jacob's face, only to change into an embarrassed and guilty stare at the ground beneath him, complete with a regretting grimace. "I, uh, I'm sorry for that, Pyrrha. I just... the pressure's mounting and I'm, well, not doing as well as I would prefer to be—"

She stopped him right there as she reached out and gingerly held his shoulder. "I know that it can seem like you are doing so much to progress, only to find that you progressed so little," Pyrrha said quietly. "Believe me when I say that, in all honesty, I've felt exactly like that."

Jacob looked up. "You have," he asked incredulously. "I know most climb their way up to the top, but you've always seemed a natural at this."

Her mind unconsciously ticked backwards to a half-decade ago at those words; an old and cherished memory, tinged with nostalgic happiness and regret alike...

 _"...Good job, Pyrrha! You're a natural at this!"_

 _"Oh, stop it, Celly."_

 _"No, I mean it, you've made a lot of progress."_

 _"But I'm nowhere near as strong as Dad—"_

 _"Ah-buh-buh-buh, no comparing yourself to your father, remember? You'll get it at your own pace."_

 _"...You really think I've been making progress?"_

 _"Better than me or my sisters could have done at your age..."_

Pyrrha blinked twice as the memory faded back into her mind. She felt the faint stinging in her right eye. "You'd be surprised," she said softly.

They stood in silence for another second or so, Jacob seemingly rolling her words around in his mind. He sighed again. "I'm learning new things every day," he said with an eyeroll.

She returned the gesture in kind, only accompanied with a smile of amusement. "I'll have to tell you about the person that trained me one of these days. But for now," she said as she backed off and unsheathed Milo from its back-scabbard, "Let's make you our equal."

Jacob cocked an eyebrow. "You know I won't stand a chance of beating you."

Jaune shrugged from off to the side. "You won't know until you've tried to."

Jacob glanced at the ground and seemed to digest her partner's words. Without a word, he backed away towards the opposite corner from her, looked her square in the eye and assumed his usual sparring stance, legs apart, shoulders up and squared, bearing his full silhouette to her. He brought Cadia from her precarious spot on his belt, snapping his wrist and changing the standard blade form into its chainsword mode. In seconds the protective casing that extended from the gun form's base frame re-enveloped the top side of the blade, leaving only the bottom half to bear its teeth as usual. The motor hummed angrily, the purr of a warrior's weapon in the hands of a man who was trying to prove a point; to who though, was a question for another day.

She assumed her stance, sword brought high behind herself, shield raised to her chest, right foot back, back forwards to brace for the lunging attack.

She, the Invincible Girl, versus her friend, looking to all the world as though he thought himself the Immovable Object.

But as she stared into his eyes and his back into hers, Pyrrha couldn't deny that the little hint of a storm still lingered in his eyes; that troubling thought, whatever it was, still lingered in the back of his head.

She would go easy tonight, if not for the sake of getting him to cheer up.

"Alright," Pyrrha began, "Two nights ago we focused on strong attacks, right?"

Jacob nodded and hummed in agreement.

"I think it's time to apply that with our lessons in footwork."

Without further warning, she began to run at him, her stance low to the ground to force his hand. Sure, she wouldn't pummel him senseless, but she wouldn't make his victory a cakewalk.

Jacob drew back, his posture signaling a massive cleaving strike. Cadia revved in his hands, the purr drowning in a roar of anger. He didn't move from his spot, but he did shift to brace her impact with his open shoulder. She saw the faintly-visible sheen of energy that flowed over him as his Aura fully awakened.

Just before she could reach him, though, he bolted forward a few steps, just enough that they collided closer than she had expected. It threw her off, the lack of time to brace and the sudden countering momentum from his shoulder-charge halting her own charge in its steps and sending her reeling a bit.

 _Good,_ she thought in the back of her mind as she twirled and righted herself, _he remembered to meet a charge with a counter-charge._

Cadia roared again as he moved in closer, taking a step, two steps, three steps as he closed in and cut across the width of her torso. She ducked under the blade with a backflip before transforming Milo into its spear form and swinging in return. Lacking the time to parry, Jacob ducked down and to his left, the two now looking like a pair of twisting marble statues of Mistrali warriors.

In the span of a second, Jacob was swinging upwards in a shallow cross-cut slash to her chest, Cadia's teeth ricocheting off of Akouo. She at the same time jabbed again, Jacob's torso twisting to avoid the spear. Jacob stepped backwards and began with much larger swings in the pattern she had taught him: Uppercut, reverse, shoulder cross-cut, left, right, up again, and with each one she met chainsword with Milo's sword form. Back and forth they exchanged blows for several seconds, warming themselves up for more advanced moves in a bit. Their swords beat at one another, twisting their attack angles to one-up the other; Pyrrha found herself spinning a few times, using the momentum in an attempt to overpower Jacob's counterattacks with her own.

It felt like minutes had passed when they finally broke apart, Pyrrha backflipping away and Jacob jumping backwards in a mild stumble. Both were already beginning to pant, Pyrrha's tire from training with Jaune earlier compounding on top of the exertion she was getting from her new training partner. Jacob was panting a lot harder than she was, the heftier blade that he wielded making each swing for him a lot harder to both control and instigate to begin with.

"You're holding back," he said breathily.

She felt an urge to wince. "Hardly," she lied with a laugh.

"A liar is good at lie-detecting, Pyrrha," he responded. "You can't pull the wool over my eyes."

She kept that first bit in her mind for later, but she couldn't help but sigh. She pushed forwards, Milo changing back into its spear form as she lunged at him, striking at his feet. He leapt back and she struck again, Akouo blocking his attempts at jabbing her. She was forcing him back, putting her footwork and positioning to use. The only thing he could do now was roll to the side or advance back at her.

He decided to go with the latter choice. He lunged forwards, Cadia revving again as he caught Milo in its teeth, Pyrrha visibly spotting the split-second of gunning the trigger. She had only milliseconds to reach out with her Semblance, magnetizing Milo to her hand to keep it from being wrenched out of her hand by Cadia's spinning teeth. Jacob swung hard as Cadia spun, Pyrrha following the momentum into a dangerous pirouette.

Jacob had no time as Milo slammed into his side with a sharp-sounding impact. He stumbled sideways, spinning and lashing out but finding no purchase. He hit the ground and rolled into a kneel

Pyrrha winced at her move; she was trying to go easy on him and she was already falling back into a normal pace.

Jacob looked up at her, and the massive grin that she saw found itself accompanied by an elated twinkle in his eyes.

"There's what I'm looking for," he said, "if you don't push, I don't get better!"

Pyrrha felt her stomach drop out from beneath her.

 _Just like she said... before she—_

Pyrrha was torn from her thoughts as Jacob rose back to his feet and moved in to attack her. She saw Cadia's teeth retract back into the frame, swiveling and aligning into a singular blade. Now he was looking to really challenge himself.

Her heart sank as she realized she would have to oblige. She charged in too, looking to jab at him and capitalize on his lack of shield.

The two clashed again in the center and began to dance around one another's blades—though Jacob's movements could hardly be considered "dancing." She poked and slashed at him, wearing away at his Aura with weak blows that still compounded with time. He fell back on his usuals, making big, cleaving swings only to back off a step and block what few blows he could with Cadia. The two danced in a circle, Jacob refusing to give ground and insisting on taking ground.

A dance macabre had they been enemies, but within their circle, it ws different.

Pyrrha's alarmed fears were suddenly silenced and snuffed by a rising giddiness in her heart. Across the way, the dour look to Jacob's face had been smothered by that gleam of excitement, when not wincing in dulled pain at her attacks. Soon, it was a full-on smile from him, infectious and bringing her to a smile as well. Fighting like this, putting her all into it, not having to force herself to play it easy for him, she felt more relaxed, more in-the-moment than she was with Jaune. Sure, with Jaune she was fairly certain she was smitten, if what her mother said was true, but with Jacob... it was different.

But what it was confused her even more so. It was a love of being with him, but it wasn't like her growing affection for Jaune; it was more like she could feel more comfortable around him.

Pyrrha felt herself give into the dance-fight, the two now sweating like sinners in a church as they continued to fight. How long had it been, five minutes? Six? Seven by now? She couldn't say, but she was enjoying every second of it. Faster and faster they went, Jacob now taking far more blows, Pyrrha now getting glanced by a swing every so often. It was a rush,

 _BEEP! BEEP!_

Pyrrha's mind screeched back to sensibility. That was the Aura red alert: Someone's Aura was nearly depleted.

Across the way, Jacob faltered in the middle of an attack, Pyrrha tripping him with Milo's spear shaft. He hit the ground with a cry of surprise and a loud _thud._ A blue shimmer crackled across his body upon impact, like electricity on a wire.

They sat in silence, both panting to variant degrees. Pyrrha felt a thin layer of sweat everywhere across her and her breathing was strong but still well under control, thanks to her Aura keeping her stamina high. Jacob, on the other hand, looked horrible, his cheeks a deep flushed red, his breath haggard and sweat pouring from his brow.

"Jeez, Jacob," she heard Jaune say from behind her. Pyrrha turned to see Jaune staring at them with wide eyes of both impress and awe. "You sure that you're not catching up with Pyrrha?"

She looked back at Jacob, who was fishing out his Scroll. He glanced at it for a second, Pyrrha seeing the distinct red bar of a depleted Aura staring back at him before he breathily said, "You tell me, Jaune." He flipped it around to show them. Pyrrha squinted to see it: 7% of his Aura remained. "I hope that it was good for you."

Pyrrha nodded, cnciously ignoring the double entendre he laced into that sentence. "To be fair," she said as she continued to even out her breathing, "You took damage last night and didn't take a lot of time to recover." She pulled out her own Scroll and looked down.

She still smiled at the results, despite how one-sided they had been.

"Well, you didn't do too horribly at all," she said, walking up to him and offering her Scroll. On it, her Aura had depleted to 81%. The time read 8:21

Jacob stared at it for what felt like ages. Pyrrha could see in his eyes that same spark of elation, though something was holding it back, something keeping him from fully embracing his progress. "Even then," he finally said, "in a fight that—"

Pyrrha kneeled down and held a finger to his mouth. "You didn't win," she said, "but you did better than you've done before."

Jacob seemed to digest that idea for a few seconds. "I guess," he said hesitantly, "a win against myself is still a win. Yeah, yeah, I guess it is a win at the end of the day."

Pyrrha felt a smile grow on her face as she sat down beside Jacob, both still sweaty and breathing somewhat heavily. "That's what Celly always told me," she sighed, "you don't have to beat everyone else; you just have to be the you that came before."

Jaune came up and sat beside them, crossing his legs as he sat beside Pyrrha. "'Celly?' Who's that?"

Pyrrha sighed, a somber and nostalgic noise. She still remembered that brunette bob, the gold and red armor, the happy smile, her stormy, brown eyes, so full of life and a wisdom beyond her years. "An old friend," was all she said as she leaned into Jaune. "Again, I'll tell you about her another time. For now, for now I think we've made good progress for the night."

She felt herself relax, her breath finally returning to normal. Without warning to Jaune, she leaned into him, feeling the cold metal of his chestpiece on her back.

She glanced over to Jacob, whom had finally stopped wheezing. He turned his head to glance over in her direction and winked slightly, the shadow of a grin on his cheeks.

Pyrrha felt her face flush yet again as she returned the smile-echo. Even if there was something going on outside, something that threatened her team and her sister-team, it wouldn't hurt them to take it slow and steady.

 _I wonder how mom and dad would feel about them all._

"So, uh," Jacob said after another minute, "I didn't ask you guys during dinner, but what did I miss in Port's lecture today?"

* * *

The night outside her room's window danced in the light of the Moon, casting shadows of light across the floor of the dormitory... if that made any sense to a normal person, she would have been proud to have said something so sappily-poetic as that. No light from within the room reached back outside, the overhead fan lamp having gone dim hours ago. The room was quiet, save for a tiny snore from across the room and the tiny hum from the fan bringing pulling the hot air up to the ceiling.

 _God damnit, why the hell is my brain waxing poetic?_

With a sigh, she righted herself in her bed, her blonde hair already a mess from what had only been a few hours of sleep thus far. She reached up as she automatically stretched, a great yawn coming from her mouth; to all the world she sometimes wondered if people mistook her for a lion Faunus rather than your everyday blonde bombshell.

Yang felt a few bones pop and crack in response to her involuntary yawn-stretch. Her eyelids felt heavy, but even when she closed them, she found that she just couldn't drift off into slumber. Had she been alone she might have been able to tire herself out with a quick rub-out— _how long has it been since I last rubbed one out?—_ but that was impossible with 3 roommates, and worse still that one of said roommates was her baby sister.

She lied back down and forced her eyes closed. _Alright, let's try counting sheep_ , she thought to herself. _One sheep, two sheep, three, four, five, six, seven..._ Yang kept counting, hoping that the imaginary livestock would lull her to sleep.

She lost count at 43 and still was nowhere near to being asleep.

"Damnit," she groaned beneath her breath. Yang rolled onto her side, wondering if the moonlight was bugging her; never did before, but there was always a first time for everything. She covered her head with her pillow, darkness consuming her vision while her eyes remained open.

She sat there for what felt like ten minutes. Still, no change. Yang held the pillow to her mouth and bit down hard, suppressing an aggravated groan that would have woken everyone else up.

Why was she feeling drowsy and yet couldn't fall asleep?

 _Click!_

Her inner monologue clamped its mouth shut. A tiny sound reached her ears, no louder than a falling pin: the distinct sound of her room's doorknob twisting open.

She peaked out from beneath the pillow. The dim light of the hallway outside reached her eyes, ad with it a silhouette.

A silhouette with a pair of ears poking out from a head of dark hair.

Before she could remove the pillow from atop her head and say something, the figure had slipped through the door with feline grace and silently shut the door behind her. Across the way, Ruby continued to sleep soundly, her tiny snores having now finally silenced themselves for the night. Weiss dreamed on as always, sleeping like the dead; A Beowolf could invade the room and roar like Hell and she would still be asleep, Yang reckoned.

Why Blake was sneaking out was a conundrum to her, and a worrying one at that. Yang cautiously removed her blankets, slipped her orange top and shorts back over her lingerie—she was a sucker for a snooze in the cold in nothing but her lingerie—and began to tip-toe to the door. She opened the door quietly, taking what felt like a whole minute just to turn the knob, before stepping out into the hallway quickly without a sound. She looked down the hallway in both directions, only just seeing Blake round the corner for the elevators. Yang began after her, a brisk pace to her gait as she followed her Faunus friend.

Yang rounded the corner to see the door to the elevator close shut. She growled in exasperation.

"This is not helping my sleep, Kitty-Cat," she muttered as she made for the stairs across the hall, swinging wide the door and practically hopping down the height of the stairwell. Even without her Aura Yang was durable for a girl her age, years of taking punches and kicks aplenty in the sparring ring and the schoolyards playing to her physical advantage. The six-pack lady-abs she sported she swore to God could crack open a coconut if someone beat it against her, and her natural strength and durability still fed her Semblance, even if her Active Aura was still asleep.

She hit the floor of the first floor with ease, her Aura waking up seconds before impact. It hurt a bit to take the impact, but no more than Torchwick's punch from last night, and that still gave her twinges in her back throughout the day. There was no big boom, no splintering of concrete beneath her like usual; just the sound of flesh meeting ground with a dull but still noisy _thud._

She came up to the door and peaked out, her violet-lilac eyes just able to see outside. Sure enough, the elevator opened to reveal Blake inside, wearing her black, silky yukata as usual, though her bow was nowhere in sight.

Yang felt her stomach hop in her torso as it came back to her from her half-groggy state. "Why the hell doesn't she have her damn bow on!?" She was glad that she only hissed, though she did see Blake's closer ear twitch as she passed by the door.

Yang opened the door behind her, doing her damnedest to sneak up and find out why Blake was up so late. She reached the corner that led down to the main lobby of the dorms and kneeled before she heard Blake sigh.

"Whoever you are," she said lowly, "I heard your landing from inside the elevator. If you're here on behalf of Adam, tell him he's not to ever approach me again."

Yang cocked an eyebrow. "Adam? Who the heck is Adam?"

Blake rounded on the spot, a mortified and embarassed look on her face. "Yang? What are you doing here?!"

Yang got back to both feet and began walking towards her Faunus partner. "Funny," she said, "I was about to ask you the same question. I swear to God, Blake, if you're gonna go running out into the city to hunt the White Fang again, I'm not gonna chase after you this time."

Blake's ears flattened a bit, a tiny frown appearing for a split second. "That's not what I was doing," she replied. "Yang, for the gods' sakes, I'm in my nightgown, not my combat gear."

"Then what's with all the sneaking around?"

"I didn't want to wake everybody up with my brainstorming."

"Your 'brainstorming'? Brainstorming about _what?_ "

Blake seemed to hesitate. "It's about... well..."

"Blake," Yang said as she guided Blake to the sofas in the lobby, "come on, you're my partner. Tell me what's on your mind."

They both sat down, Blake sitting cross-legged as she seemed to ponder something; whether it was the subject or how she was gonna say anything never crossed Yang's mind.

"It's... it's about Jacob," she finally said in a low tone, as if there was someone else in the room.

Yang cocked an eyebrow. "Jacob? What about him?"

Blake hesitated again, glancing around. "Don't you feel it was just a little too coincidental in regards to how we met him?"

Yang's eyebrow remained up. "Uh, not really in all honesty. He was in a rough spot, we bumped into him in the forest during Initiation, that's that."

Blake sighed. "Well, there's more to it," she said as she looked down into her lap. "I was thinking about it throughout the day—actually, I'd thought about it on numerous occasions before he helped me and Sun—and something... something doesn't seem right."

Yang felt both concern and a little bit of outrage. "Alright," she said, humoring Blake's concerns, "What's so suspicious of him, and why are you only now bringing it to a head?"

Blake took a deep breath. "A 20-year old man says that he wakes up in the middle of the Emerald Forest with no idea of how he got there and happens upon us, particularly he bumps into Pyrrha, who he immediately recognizes. Then, while armed and carrying a fully-loaded backpack of assorted stuff, including a couple books that I saw in there, as well as some proto-laptop called a "Blu-Ray", he tags along with us, nearly dies from a concussion since he had _no Huntsman training_ and somehow Professor Ozpin just allows him in without need for an entrance exam?"

Yang heard everything Blake said, but Yang's temper was running short tonight. "What are you getting at, Blake?"

"I'm saying that, for as much as he's done for us and we in turn have done for him, there's some things about him that aren't adding up." She stood up and began pacing in front of the Yang, her hands tucked behind her as she paced in thought. "He said that he knew my parents, Yang, that he met them travelling through Menagerie when he was younger. But if my parents met a human family during their time in the White Fang, I would have known about it. More than that, no human travels to Menagerie, unless their traders, lost, or outright out of their minds."

Yang didn't deign a response, sitting back and crossing her arms with another cock of her brow.

Blake continued. "Then, there's the fact he got in; I'm not gonna say he shouldn't be here because I think he's a bad person. I _am_ gonna say that he shouldn't be here because he nowhere near as good a combatant as anyone else here, even Jaune, despite the two being in practically the same situation."

"Hey," Yang protested, Jaune's a good fighter and an even better team leader." Blake rolled her eyes at that, but Yang continued onwards. "And Jacob is learning how to fight with that chainsword; so what if none of our styles fit with it that well?"

"That's exactly my point," Blake said, "the way we fight doesn't work for him, and there is no Huntsman or Huntress here that he _could_ learn from that would be able to teach him a conducive style.

"Bullshit," Yang replied, "He's been doing great training under Pyrrha—"

"And he nearly got killed last night, _twice_ , had it not been for someone saving him. But that's not my point; Jaune forged his transcripts to get in and yet Jacob got in without a single test, just on the Headmasters orders? Doesn't that strike you as more than just a _little bit_ odd?"

Yang opened her mouth to make a comeback, but she found her throat was dead silent. No biting remark, no cheeky pun, nothing left her mouth in response. Yang had never thought about it before, but it did seem odd that Jacob was just let in without another word on the matter. No forgeries, no one vouching for him, he just was let in. Yang remembered the tests to get into Beacon well; long, thorough exams before a series of combat trials that lasted two whole weeks, and really only the brightest, the strongest and those like Cardin—sporting the biggest cash wads buy their way in—got in.

And Jacob didn't even do one of those.

But that thought was suddenly snuffed out by another. "Ozpin must have seen him as worthy of coming to Beacon during the Initiation. He didn't need to go through those tests _because_ he got through Initiation... sorta."

Blake watched her long and hard, like a panther watching its prey. "Even then," she added, "he almost bled to death through his arm from an Ursa bite and got knocked out cold by a Beowolf landing on top of him."

Yang glared at that remark. Blake, again, didn't pay attention.

"And last of all," she continued, "was how he reacted around Mr. Lysander and Mr. Ultramar, as if he recognized them from somewhere; on top of that, his running off to somewhere in the city tonight before he met with Pyrrha and Jaune... I hate to say but, that... that's just beyond conspicuous."

Yang felt her temper flare higher. "Look," she said forcefully, no doubt in her mind that her irises were beginning to turn red, "Jacob had a rough start here, but more than that he's been in a rougher situation than most if not all of us. You, me, Ruby, Weiss, Pyrrha, Jaune, even Ren and Nora I think have homes to return to, families to welcome them home. Jacob doesn't have that, and if he's to be believed, he won't have anything like that ever again, at least until he starts his own family. Until then, he has no one but us, Blake!"

The air was even warmer, sweat trickling down her back and across her chest too. Her Semblance's heat generation made every second like being inside a sauna, even for her at times it got uncomfortable.

She took a deep breath and felt the fire in her belly grow colder and smaller. Her blood pressure dropped back to normal and the mild jump in air temperature around her cooling down.

"We, as his current friends, are the closest thing he has to family right now," Yang said lowly, "and even if we've only known him a few months, I'm not going to turn my back on someone who needs anything remotely akin to a family." The drop in the air temperature sent a cold chill up Yang's spine; she found herself holding her arms close to her ample chest in response.

Blake closed her eyes and seemed to huff. "A valid deflection, I guess. But still," she said as she began to walk back towards the elevators, "as much as I want to trust him, to consider him a friend, things aren't all adding up. I just don't want anyone getting hurt because of a lie while all of our gazes are affixed on something on the horizon."

"I thought your big concern was the White Fang?"

Blake sighed. "And Torchwick, yes, they're our biggest priority. But, like I said, I don't want to get blindsided and see anyone get hurt." With that, she walked away, also hugging herself in the now-cooler night air.

Yang sat in thought for what felt like a half-hour before she shook her head and followed Blake.

A much as she didn't want to suspect Jacob of something... something about what Blake said was ringing too clearly in her head.

Now, she really felt tired. And very confused.

 _Damnit, why can't we have a single peaceful night?_

* * *

 **Well, what a tricky pickle to be in, eh? Hopefully things can't get much worse than that... right?**

 **Oh, right, hope's the first step on the road to disappointment. Crap.**

 **Next Chapter, a plan is hatched, a pact is formed and a bomb goes off.**

 **Wait, what was that last part?**

 **Edit: You know what... I've been writing this story for a whole year. That is trippy. And I've gained 200+ watchers and followers on this project. I really don't say it enough, but thanks to everyone who has been with me on this nutty journey of ours. Here's to another year!**

 **Reviews, follows and Favorites are always appreciated and getting feedback from everyone is always a highlight, whether for good or for bad, so feel free to do any or all or some mix of those three as usual and as always, I'll see you all in the next Chapter. Ave Imperator!**


	25. Adam Bomb Baby

**Apologies for the lateness of this update, life has been busy now that school is out. Hunting for a job, prepping for a vacation, et cetera. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this Chapter, as it is another long one (16.5K long) and is heavily inspired by the pacing of Volume 5 (wink-wink).**

 **The intellectual properties of RWBY and its associated images, iconography, terminology and characters are a copyright of Rooster Teeth.**

 **The intellectual properties of Warhammer 40K and its associated images, iconography, terminology, characters, places objects and etc. are a copyright of Games Workshop.**

* * *

 **In Memory of:**

 **John "Totalbiscuit" Bain**

* * *

 **Chapter 25: Adam Bomb Baby**

* * *

 _"Life changes fast. Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends."—_ _Joan Didion_

* * *

The morning light of Remnant's sun cascaded through the weaknesses in the thick cloud cover, the windows and down onto the assemblage of groggy, hungry Huntsmen and Huntresses-in-training. All were in various states of wakefulness and some were even in various states of dress; some were still in pajamas, others were gussied up in their Academy uniforms, while others still were dressed for a casual day. Most of them were busy with breakfast, the buffet that morning bountiful with waffles, pancakes, rolls, muffins and other bread goods, as well as the usual; a very noticeable stack of pancakes stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the masses of singular waffles, cups of fruit, plates of bacon and eggs and more. Some were busy with homework, either late or early, some working on personal projects or working on their love lives; word was that the lead girl on Team CPPR asked Cardin—Cardin, of all the people in the world—out to the Vytal Dance. Some were getting mail from family, some were catching up with friends old and new, it was a veritable microcosm of all life that sat under Remnant's sun.

Ruby Rose, on the other hand, was busy staring up at the sky in thought.

Cloud-covered summers were uncommon in Vale, and to most native citizens of Vale it was both an omen of a good harvest in what few farmlands of the Kingdom, and an omen of incoming disaster. It made sense, in a way, as the loosely-packed soils of the farmlands had a habit of suddenly washing away as the rains got worse and worse, taking farms, livestock and crops once the land finally hit a saturation point. Granted, the saturation point was rarely reached, but every decade or so some poor farmer's house down in the farming towns like Redhearth would note one morning that his barn just moved thirty feet towards his house, and everyone would fly into a panic. Ruby had only seen this once, but according to Dad she was only 4 that summer and that isn't exactly an age old enough to remember anything.

As much as she enjoyed a sunny day, Ruby had to admit that sometimes a cloudy day was good for its own kind of smiles. And it being a weekend, now was as opportune a time as ever to find those smiles.

She yawned as the last vestiges of sleepiness slowly left her mind, their clawing grip being pulled loose by the sweet sugary goodness of chocolate chip muffins with bacon and milk. Around her, her teammates and their sister-team groggily readied themselves for the weekend. Weiss was polishing off a cup of coffee and some scrambled eggs, Yang had just downed her fourth waffle smothered in syrup, and Blake had finished a sizeable slice of a cantaloupe and was now sipping from a glass of tea. JNPR was seated across from them at the same table today, each of them having just gotten their own meals, with Nora's pancake tower hovering tall over the assembled student body as the rest of her team stole a pancake or two from the double-digit stack.

And at the foot of their table sandwiched between Ruby and Ren, his plate taken by an apple, a cut of ham and a pastry, was Jacob, his head buried in Yang's notes from a few days ago. A steaming mug of tea sat beside him, a few sips missing from the top, probably brewed to its own saturation point by now. He had some bags under his groggy eyes, though the caffeine would probably see to the latter condition in due time. There was a concentrated furrow to his brow, one that also looked kind of worried to Ruby in all honesty. Jacob's head was leaning against his fist as he was reading Yang's notes, each word seeming to cause some manner of thought to cross his mind.

"So, uh, what're everyone's plans for today?"

Jaune's question got Ruby's attention easily. "Huh? Oh," she replied after a second of hesitation, "We were gonna spend some time down at the auditorium for combat practice," she replied on behalf of her team.

Yang swallowed a quarter of a waffle and cleared her throat. "Maybe _you_ were, Rubes, but I was gonna spend this weekend relaxing and getting ready for the Dance."

"The Dance is in 2 weeks, Yang," Weiss replied as she daintily dabbed a napkin across her face, "there's no way you should be this late preparing for it!"

Yang leaned back, kicking her feet up on the edge of the table. "Don't worry, Ice Queen," she said calmly, "I'll be ready to steal every boy's breath away."

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Nora said after swallowing an entire pancake in one go. "Isn't that right, _Jacob_?"

Ruby couldn't help but laugh as Nora's snide comment force her big sister to blush brightly and Jacob to glance up from Yang's notes. After a second, everyone besides Jacob was giggling at Yang's expense, though Jacob was wearing a small, coy smile.

Yang only rolled her eyes in response. "He's not a half-bad kisser," she said matter-of-factly, "but I've kissed better."

Ruby bit her tongue, a snigger in response wanting to escape her throat. Sometimes, Yang would bluster to impress people, though they were more embellishments rather than outright lies; She had only kissed _one_ boy before Jacob, and that was five years ago with a boy who was three months her junior and was the geekiest kid in all of Signal's freshmen class that year.

"I could make so many not-safe-for-work jokes about that sentence alone that Jeff Dunham's puppets would drop their collective jaws," Jacob muttered from behind Yang's notes.

Again, the table erupted into laughter, sans Yang. "Jeff Dunham?"

Jacob seemed to pause as if he had misspoken. "Oh, right, he's a ventriloquist comedian from back home," he said, "You guys wouldn't have seen him, I may tell one of his jokes one of these days... in a more private location."

As the rest—sans Blake for some reason—continued to laugh, Yang nodded hesitantly before turning her attention back to the rest of the group. Ruby watched Jacob closely as he continued to read, his features now showing the faint traces of alarm. Something about the saurian Grimm was surprising him and maybe even terrifying him to some degree if the raised brows he sported were any indicator.

"Well," Pyrrha said as she nervously cleared her throat, "Jaune was offering to taking us all out to see the newest Spruce Willis movie before we go out and get our outfits for the Dance. Considering I want everyone to be in something they like and look good in, I'm springing for it out of my own money."

"Oh, look at you, P-Money's flexing her bank account," Yang said teasingly. "You gonna take that lying down, Weiss?"

"Hush your mouth, Yang," Weiss replied with a tone of indignation. "I think that's a lovely thing for Pyrrha to do. And yes, I suppose I would not be against putting my allowance to good use... but I'm sure that you have plenty enough to purchase your own dress."

Weiss' jest received a humongous round of laughter from the rest of the table, with even Jacob snickering at her stinging retort. "Ooh, Ice Queen's spitting fire this morning," their oldest companion replied as he glanced up again for only a quick second. "And Yang's just getting pounded over there—or, wait, I mean, ah shit, wrong choice of words!"

Jacob turned a bright red as he planted his head in the notebook. There was a sudden mist of water spray that reached Ruby's face as Nora burst into a gut-busting roar of laughter. Ruby turned and found everyone sporting bright red blushes, with Weiss, Pyrrha and Yang blushing brightest of all. Ren held his head in his hand as it seemed that the implications buzzed over Jaune by metaphorical inches; he seemed to realize it was something dirty, but the exacts eluded him so early in the morning.

Ruby couldn't help but giggle herself, her own blush spreading.

Jacob raised his head from Yang's notes and muttered embarrassedly, "Paging Dr. Freud, Dr. Sigmund Freud to the cafeteria, please."

Another round of laughter from Nora, with Yang joining in. "Sorry, big guy," Yang said through her laughter, "I don't date men three years my senior."

"Fair enough, back home you'd still be a minor and I'd get The Book thrown at me if you did," he answered, snapping the notebook closed and handing it back to Yang. "Speaking of books, here's this back, by the by. Gotta be honest, I never expected Grimm to have forms like that. Makes you wonder what other forms these bastards come in."

"Yeah," Nora said, "they have some terrifying forms... not that we're scared or anything they can throw at us, right, Ren?"

Ren nodded at her comment, but Ruby didn't let the distant look in his eyes go unnoticed.

"Fair enough," Jacob said as he sipped from his glass of tea, "we're now the ones who are supposed to beat them over the head, ergo, we should know... no fear of them."

Ruby noticed that something about his own sentence bothered him tremendously if the tone he took on at the end of it.

"Well, it's not like these types of Grimm come strolling into town every day," Jaune said, "The most we have to deal with right now are Beowolves and the occasional Ursa, right?"

Jacob grimaced in reply. "For now, yeah, we're pretty damn lucky. But I shudder to imagine what it will be like when and if we finally do meet one of these things," he said before taking a big bite out of the cinnamon roll on his plate. "And knowing my own luck, I just jinxed us," he muttered just low enough that no one outside of Ruby, Ren and probably Blake could hear him.

 _Why do you have to be so pessimistic sometimes,_ Ruby thought to herself as her smile faltered a little. "Well, when we do finally fight them, we'll all have each other, right?"

There was a collective nod and/or reply of some form of confirmation, aside from Blake for some odd reason. All eyes turned on Jacob as he sat there, quietly.

He took a second to stare down at his plate. A smile crept across his face as he let out a chuckle. "I guess we will," he answered as he raised his mug.

Ruby smiled earnestly and brought her carton of milk up too. Ren offered up his own mug with Yang and Jaune joining in. One by one, they "clinked" drinks together before drinking deeply from their assorted drinks.

"Ooh-rah," Jacob said as he guzzled his tea before setting it back down, now only a third of it remaining.

"There's the word again," Nora noticed, "I hear you say it every so often, but I've never heard it before. What's it supposed to mean?"

Jacob chuckled nervously. "It's, uh, it's basically our army's way of saying, "damn right" or "let's go" or whatever we want it to, really, it's all situational at best."

"That makes absolutely no sense," Blake deadpanned from across the table.

Jacob shrugged. "I don't disagree, but that's how they do it."

"Well, getting back on track," Weiss said with an unusually nice demeanor, "What does your weekend look like, Jacob?"

Again, a shrug. "The most I've got is that sometime today Vulkan and Titus want to meet with me, though for what is beyond me."

A few confused glances crisscrossed the table. Jaune leaned over and cocked an eyebrow at this new information. "Pyrrha's uncle?"

"Maybe they wanna teach him some of their tricks or something," Nora suggested.

"Eh, maybe, Nora," Jacob replied, "actually, that's probably the case. I mean, I have no idea, but it's as good a guess as any."

"Oooh, being all _mysterious_ ," she replied before turning, grabbing Jaune's hoodie and flipping it up over the top of his head against his protests. Jaune scrambled to pull his hoodie back down as Yang laughed at the two of them.

And out of the corner of her eye, Ruby couldn't help but notice a nervous but thoughtful look on Pyrrha's face as she stared back at Jacob.

 _What's that all about?_

"Well, regardless, they asked to meet me on the edge of the campus. But that's later today anyhow. Digressing back, this morning I've got nothing, my schedule's empty as Cardin's skull."

That got a few chuckles. "Well, you could come down with us and train for a bit," Weiss offered. "I know you train with Pyrrha and Jaune in the evenings, but maybe you should look into training against more than just standard "sword and board" fighting techniques."

Jacob's brow cocked upwards. "Looking to mop the floor with my face again, Schnee?"

"Maybe, maybe not, it all depends on whether your fighting truly has gotten any better."

Ruby looked back and forth between them as a few seconds of silence took up the space around the table, only stirred by the din of the rest of the cafeteria.

"...Alrighty then, you've got yourself a sparring partner." Jacob said with a smile. He drank again from his tea, a sizeable gulp now. "Let's see how well I do against you this go around."

Ruby felt her smile grow across her face. It was about time that they had a rematch, by her reckoning.

"This'll be fun to watch," Nora said happily as she shot her hand up enthusiastically. "All in favor of seeing their fight first say I!"

"I suppose it's worth waiting a bit to see the movie," Ren said as he sipped from his tea again.

"Oh yeah," Yang said as she slammed a fist into her other hand, "that I can agree on."

Ruby turned and looked at Jaune and Pyrrha, the former trying to interject as he held up tickets in protest. But Pyrrha, despite smiling as brightly as she always did, seemed to be mentally preoccupied, Ruby practically able to see the metaphorical gears turning in her back of her mind.

"...and I'm thinking afterwards, maybe I fight Ruby for a change, eh?"

Ruby shook her head she found herself caught in a question unaware again. " Uh, what? Oh! Oh, yeah, that's sounds like fun!"

"Right. Let's just hope I'm up to the task of fighting a speedster," Jacob said as stretched his arms forward, an audible pop ringing out from the direction of his shoulder. "Bloody hell, I'm getting old and I'm not even twenty-one yet."

They continued to chat about various things for a bit, save for Nora who was finishing up, the Valkyrie was only halfway through her mountain of pancakes.

"Hey, guys," Jaune said as he finished a glass of orange juice, "there's something on my mind and... I wanted to run it by you guys."

"What's up, Fearless Leader?" Jacob replied, now leaning back in his chair.

"So, that guy you encountered with Mr. He'Stan earlier this week—First off, I've completely forgotten again, what was his name?"

Ruby felt a seriousness descend upon them without warning. She shifted and looked over at the rest of the group, only to find Ren and Nora staring at their team leader with deathly seriousness in their eyes. Jacob looked uncomfortable, shifting forwards in his chair. "You mean Eliphas the Inheritor, right?"

"Yeah, that guy," Jaune said. "I know Blake said that he was meeting with the White Fang and that Lampwick guy, right?"

Everyone nodded solemnly before Jacob corrected, "Torchwick, his name's Torchwick."

"Right, whatever, my point is this: I thought the White Fang hated all humans, right? So, what are they doing allying with a human criminal mastermind and a pyscho like him?"

The group around the table seemed to be in unified confusion on the matter. Ruby had pondered the same thing when she wasn't busy over the last few days but had come to no conclusion of her own. Why was that supersized, tin-can wearing, clearly-evil psychopath allowed to even have an audience with the White Fang.

She looked over at Blake. The same exact look on her face as she had in the days before: a look of thoughtful bafflement. Even the former White Fang agent couldn't make heads or tails of it.

Ruby felt another uncomfortable squirm rise up her back. She didn't like remembering that Blake was a White Fang member. It felt dirty to say and even dirty to think. Actually, it made Ruby's mind wander to what may have been had Blake not become disillusioned with the White Fang's cause.

 _No, no, don't you dare, Ruby Rose,_ she chastised herself, _think happy thoughts, don't let the what-ifs get you like with Dad..._

Jacob tented his fingers, a grim look in his eyes as he stared down at the table. "Whatever it is, it's a regular... Chaotic jamboree over there, in all honesty. If the White Fang is siding with Eliphas and his... _Eightfold Path_ , we should expect they're gonna harass the city... or worse."

Silence again, only this time It seemed like the room around them had quieted too. The lot of them looked onwards at their eldest comrade, with Ruby joining them. She held on him, his coffee brown eyes holding a mental storm in place in the skies of his mind, lips tight in thought, brow furrowed.

But out of the corner of her eye, she felt as though she saw other eyes on them. She glanced aside and found herself meeting the concerned and curious stares of team CFVY.

Ruby smiled and nodded to give them some relief; their newly-rebuffed doting on the freshmen—both in regards to Teams RWBY and JNPR and their youngest teammate as well—had them regularly eating with Velvet, rather than risk the chance of more encounters with Cardin.

Ruby's thoughts turned inwards after receiving a wave from Velvet. _He's right, sorta. So many bad people getting together, they have to have something sinister in mind for Vale; but what?_

There it was again, that negativity and bristling fear. Ruby closed her eyes and thought of good times with Yang and Tai, classes under Uncle Qrow, hanging out on the edge of her group of friends at Signal.

"Well, whatever they're up to," she said after a second, "It's nothing Teams RWBY and JNPR can't handle, right?"

She was met with a myriad of looks. Apprehension and doubt from Blake and Jaune; determined smiles from Yang and Nora; looks of contemplation from Ren and Weiss, and even a sympathetic smile from Pyrrha.

"Damn right we will," Yang said. "There's nothing we can't beat, right guys?"

After a second's hesitation, the rest of the table answered with some form or another of "yes", all in some variant tone and inflection. Only Blake and Jacob didn't reply, both looking off into the distance in contemplation.

"One can only hope, I guess," Jacob said.

Blake said nothing, continuing to sit in quiet contemplation.

Ruby bit back a sigh. After three days of her staying more quiet than normal, this was honestly starting to fray even her nerves.

"Well, here's to hope, then," she said as she raised her milk carton up again.

Jacob stared at it for a second. A laughing snort left his nose as he brought his nearly-empty glass to meet it.

"Here's to hope," he replied, a small smile on his face.

To Ruby, it wasn't much, but it was enough to give her a smile of her own. "To hope."

* * *

"I really hope you've prepared for fighting me!"

 _Clang! Cling!_

"Have you noticed how badly I'm doing against _her_?! I'm having serious second—Jesus!"

"Pay attention, you idiot!"

A blur of white rushed at him, a sharp blade whizzing past his cheek as he rolled out of the way. He brought Cadia up to block another attack as he remained on one knee, catching Mytrenaster with its spinning teeth as he gunned the engine. Weiss didn't follow up her attack, instead leaping backwards to yank the sword from the steel blades. She spun on her toes like a ballerina, swiping up into his chin as his Aura bore the brunt of the damage. While it did spare him some of the pain and having his head sliced open like a pear, his Aura spared him neither the rest of the pain nor the inertia of the impact; he was sent rolling end over end backwards, coming to a stop a few feet away with his face in the floor and his stomach with it.

Jacob lifted his head and blinked hard. His vision was taking a bit to refocus, but he could easily make out Weiss darting towards him again, rapier drawn back to stab at him again. He rolled to the side again, Weiss' blade imbedding itself into the auditorium floor. As he rolled he spun back onto his feet and slashed wild and wide, the blade now back in its saber-like form. He miraculously made impact with her shoulder just before she could leap backwards. Weiss' Aura flared at the impact site, but she hardly budged outside of a reflexive recoil. Weiss backed away as Jacob returned to his feet and also backed off, putting a good fifteen or so feet between them.

They sized each other up. Jacob's breathing was heavy and his brow was well and drenched with sweat. Echoes of pain from intercepted attacks still rang out here and there as his heart worked overtime in response: even with his Aura-infused body he was still fighting the fatigue.

Weiss, on the other hand, was better off by a long shot. She showed very few signs of tire; no panting, no exhaustion in her stance, the only thing that was visible was the sweat pouring off her own brow.

Poised, controlled and precise against wild, barely-coordinated and blunt. Even Jacob was seeing the writing on the wall at this point.

But at least he could lose and still take her Aura down a peg.

He reached for Titan, hanging loosely at his hip from his belt—

Wait.

He patted the spot where Titan was supposed to be. Nothing.

 _Where's Titan!?_

Weiss smirked as she twirled in place and conjured a blast of Ice Dust from Myrtenaster. She launched it upwards, the projectile arcing over his head before exploding into a hailstorm mid-arc. Jacob couldn't roll out of the way, forcing him to transform his chainsword and attempting to block the rain of ice bearing down on him. His slashes hardly hit their target, ice shards the diameter of half-dollars pelting him relentlessly for a solid ten seconds. He stumbled out of the area of effect and wheeled on the spot, expecting Weiss to come careening through the ice and get him in the chest like their last duel.

He wasn't right this go around.

A wall of fire seared the hailstorm out of sight, rushing at him like a pyroclastic flow but brighter. He lept backwards as his heart in turn leapt into his throat, his feet scrambling backwards to get distance from the flames. Desperately, he slashed with Cadia, hoping he could make even the tiniest gust of wind would part the burning wall like the Red Sea.

He tripped and started plummeting backwards. Seconds ticked by at a snail's pace.

The flames parted, revealing a blur of white snow and cold steel. He didn't even have time to blink.

Suddenly, blinding pain in his forehead, like an icepick had pierced his skull. He went flying backwards, tumbling end over end again before coming to rest on his back, head towards the ceiling.

A claxon went off above them.

He tilted his head backwards as he suddenly noticed all of the light in the room was brighter than he had previously noted.

His Aura read at 8% to Weiss' 40%. The match timer was stopped at 24:18.

He lost. Again.

But that was less important than the horrible throb in his forehead. He cradled his brow and covered his eyes to try to block out the pain.

There was a sound of heels walking towards him.

"And that's 2 and 0, Mr. Muller," Weiss said, the hint of laughter in her voice. "Are you alright?"

"...Define 'okay' for me, Ms. Schnee." He opened his eyes slowly, seeing what it was that was in her hand, only to be greeted by the sight of Weiss standing over him, hands at her hips, sword holstered in its loop-scabbard. He fought the urge to roll his eyes as he said, "Once again, I came short of beating you, this time not even doing as well as last time."

She smirked. "You used up your bag of tricks on your first fight," she said. "Although, that shot at my feet was pretty clever."

Jacob huffed. "Not clever enough it seems."

More footsteps rang out from the side before he was surrounded by the whole of RWBY and JNPR coming down from the bleachers. Yang stood directly over his head while Ruby and Blake stood at hhe side. JNPR was mirroring the action to some exent of their own, with Jaune overhead and the others at Jacob's sides. "Are you alright," asked Ruby, "That looked pretty painful."

"I was just wondering about that," he said as Yang offered him a hand up, "What the hell was that?"

"A new strategy I was testing out for use the Vytal Festival," she said as he returned to his feet. "A good first test, in my opinion."

"Yeah, successful test," Jacob replied through the ache in his forehead. "You ought to come up with a name for it once you've tested it on better Huntsman than I; and that list is longer than Vale is wide."

Yang groaned in ire. "Why do you always put yourself down?"

Jacob sighed and fought an eye roll. "Acknowledging where you are on the metaphorical food chain isn't exactly putting myself down, Yang."

"Okay, Ruby cover your ears, but that is bull," she replied.

"Yang!" Jaune replied.

"Well, it is! Jacob, your first fight together lasted about 5 minutes at the most; this time you lasted nearly fifteen, and this time without even using your bombs!"

Jacob had no response for her; she was right, sorta. It had been around... a month and a half, maybe even two months, something like that since the two had their exhibition to the tune of a thunderstorm. Since then, they had both trained to even greater levels than before—theoretically at least—and had led to their current spar taking as long as it did.

But still, Jacob had come short of victory by a humongous amount. At this rate, he would be more of a hindrance to saving Pyrrha than a boon.

"I still came up short, Yang," he said. "I need to do better if I'm gonna pull my weight, especially considering... you know."

A tiny hand latched onto his shoulder. "You still did great," Ruby said. "It's slow progress, but it's still progress."

 _But it's not enough progress for where I need to be,_ Jacob thought to himself. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, the pain now dimming to a low throb over his sinuses.

"Hey," Nora said with a joshing tap on his shoulder, "you'll get there eventually."

Another sigh. As much as he wanted to feel good about his progress... how could he really?

"Jacob."

He stopped moving as another hand reached out to the small of his back. The lingering ache in his forehead began to fade, any sense of tire in his arms and legs fading with it. He glanced over his shoulder to see what was going on. Pyrrha and Ruby were both glowing with their Auras, their eyes closed in a meditative way, as if they were concentrating.

"You can't be serious, guys."

After about twenty seconds, the glow around Ruby and Pyrrha subsided. Jacob pulled his Scroll from his jacket's chest pocket and pulled up his Aura. It was now back to 75%, and Jacob had a pretty good idea what theirs' would look like if he pulled up their Auras.

He turned and noticed Pyrrha holding her head just as he had been earlier. Jaune was standing closer to her now, a hand on her shoulder. "I'm alright," she said as she looked up and met his eyes.

"You didn't need to do that," Jacob replied.

"But I wanted to," she replied softly. "And Ruby did too. If you keep beating yourself up over these small defeats, you'll never see your victories for what they are: progress."

Her words rang out in Jacob's head, but to him they still felt hollow, though not because of her. He grimaced in thought.

"Try again," Ruby piped up, "but this time against me!"

Jacob cocked a brow. "Really? 'Mr. Slow-as-molasses' against the speediest Huntress to ever be?"

Ruby only kept smiling as she produced something from behind her back. The glint of Titan's frame came into view, like a snide smile about ready to say "I told you so". She held out the Bersa in her hand as she only replied, "You won't know if you don't try."

Jacob looked back between the gun and the girl. "How'd you get that?!"

"You dropped it during that last roll before Weiss' hailstorm," she said.

Nora came up to his side and grabbed his shoulder. "Come on, you know you want to give her another go," she sang in a tease.

"Nora—"

"Please, Jacob," Ruby said with a hint of a plea in her voice. "Just one more round."

The two locked eyes, Jacob's cynical brow and grimace squaring off against Ruby's puppy-dog eyes and smile. This wasn't an unfamiliar situation for him, being an older brother and all, but where he could handle his little brother's placations, Ruby was in a whole different league. Maybe it was the anime proportions, maybe she was legitimately so sweet it cut through his defenses, maybe it was his older-brother instinct surrogating Ruby for his brother, but whatever it could have been was eating through him like a shark through chum.

Jacob sighed and dropped the face. "Goddamnit, I hope you're right."

A few minutes of configuring and reloading later, the two stood opposite of one another on the auditorium stage. The board read 75% for both of them, though for Jacob that meant his Aura pool was more along the lines of half of her pool and 75% of his normal Aura pool. Coupled with her speed, her glass-cannon fighting style and the fact that hiding in her veins was some form of ancient Deus-Ex-Machina power—and by extension packing a plate of plot armor akin to a fallout bunker—Jacob could say to himself that he would be well and truly fucked.

He sighed heavily. "Don't go easy on me, Ruby. I wanna work for my food, so to speak."

She only nodded and smiled with determination. From behind her back she pulled out Crescent Rose in its gun form before beginning to spin it around her right shoulder. The weapon expanded, each flourish revealing more of the war scythe that it formed in melee before she slammed it into the ground blade first, the scythe form fully revealed. The momentum of the blade spinning had kicked up a light gust behind her, the wind whipping her cape forewards and to her left. It was a regular selection-menu pose, right out of a game like _For Honor_ or _SoulCalibur_.

Jacob took a deep breath. "Alright then, I'll play along," he muttered under his breath. He drew Cadia in her saber form and in the same motion tapped the button to change her into her chainsword form. He turned and bore his right shoulder forwards and left shoulder back, the chainsword hefted up over and behind him like a scorpion's tail, Titan pointed forwards and tilted to the side; All he needed to do now was say "hello there" or something of the like and the reference was complete.

They stood in silence. Ruby smiled smugly.

Jacob looked into that smile and felt a weight fall from his shoulders, even if it was only a tiny weight.

He smiled back.

 _Fight like hell, Muller._

 _ **DING!**_

Ruby rushed forwards without warning, a hurricane gale of black and red, leaving a trail of rose petals in her wake. Jacob blinked in surprise and she went from 40 or 50 feet out—the auditorium stage had been expanded a week earlier—to maybe 20 feet out.

He saw Crescent Rose's blade pop out from her left side, looking like it was meant to bisect him. He swung Cadia just as she came upon him, scythe meeting chainsword at his side in a burst of sparks. She stopped in midair for barely even a half-second before the roar of the built-in sniper rifle sounded off; Jacob felt his arm nearly be wrenched out of its socket. He spun to unlatch himself from the scythe as she went screaming away from him to the right, the blade missing his Aura by an inch.

Ruby broke her flight as she impaled the floor beneath her about 10 feet out, the inertia in her flight sending her spinning on the spot before she swiveled back into a spinning roll directed at him.

Jacob felt his stomach leap into his throat as he sprang backwards, transforming Cadia a snapping off a few shots with Titan. Two pinged off of Crescent Rose, but a third made impact, slamming into her back. The momentum she had built was suddenly weakened as she stumbled in midair out of her spinning ball of death. Ruby hit the ground with a roll and came out of it with a wide left swing, catching Jacob's arm. The momentum forced him into half of a spin, his balance failing as he made for the floor. He reached out his gun-filled hands and leaned into the fall, somehow managing to land instead on his ass in a half-baked forward roll.

In the back of his mind, he realized, _Hey! Haven't done a somersault since I was a first grader!_

But outside, his mind was more preoccupied with pouring rounds into Ruby. The clips loaded were filled with Lightning Dust cartridges, the electrical output dialed down from usual due to concerns from Ozpin about the last few sparring matches leading to temporarily-paralyzed students.

Still, Ruby wasn't one to take chances, spinning Crescent Rose to reflect the shots aside like the scythe was a helicopter blade. She didn't advance, seemingly caught up in deflecting as much as she could.

There was an audible cry of annoyance from Nora in the bleachers. "Use your bombs, silly!"

Jacob didn't want to, mainly out of principle. Yang was right all those weeks ago; he needed to stand on his own two feet as it were and he couldn't rely on bombs forever. Even then, it would kind of be cheating against Ruby.

A shot ricocheted past his head. She was closing in, looking like she wanted to strike from above judging by her occasional glance up to the roof.

 _Sorry, Yang._

Cadia stopped firing as he dropped her and reached into his denim jacket's pocket. Whatever IED it was he didn't care, considering the ones he had made most recently were concussive and flashbangs—no smokescreens this go around.

He threw it up into the air, the priming pin still latched onto his finger. He covered his eyes out of concern it was a flash.

Turns out he was right. A combination of Lightning and Fire Dust exploded into a flash bright enough for him to see it through his eyelids. Jacob heard Ruby cry out in surprise; She hadn't expected that.

He tore open his eyes without a second guess as he grabbed his pistol again. He leveled the twin pistols and squeezed without hesitation.

One, two, three, four, _five_ shots slammed into Ruby, three into her arms and the others square into her chest. She stumbled as she blinked the brightness away, only to come out of her daze and straight into a spin that threatened to pierce Jacob's head with her scythe's blade.

He rolled away as the blade sang past his ear. He stopped and squeezed again, only to hear the _click_ of an empty magazine. "Ah shit," he said as he stared at the drawn-back frames of the gun, hungrily begging for more ammunition.

His eyes caught a glint above him. Crescent Rose came screaming at his face point-first. He squawked a terrified scream as he rolled again, the blade impaling the floor where his nose had once been. He scrambled to his feet and dropped the empty clips as he did so, only to fumble with the new clips for a few seconds. Ruby fired the rifle, .50 caliber rounds threatening to slam into his torso.

"Ease up, you two," cried Weiss from the sidelines.

Jacob ducked and weaved before going to ground again. The new clips finally sealed in place and with a pull on Cadia's slide he was at least halfway back to being able to fight. He racked Titan's slide. Titan was suddenly yanked from his hand by an unforeseen force, the pistol sailing to the side of the auditorium.

Jacob cursed under his breath. He couldn't turn and go after it, otherwise Ruby would get him in the back. But he couldn't fight with just a lone pistol.

Cadia changed into her sword form as he lunged inside of Crescent Rose's reach. He hopped over the blade as it swung for his legs and came at Ruby with a massive cleave. She squeaked in surprise as she sidestepped the blade, her scythe now swinging wildly in response.

 _Head, arms, legs, torso,_ Jacob reminded himself as the fight became a CQC brawl. He began slashing at her, slash, slash, slash, each made in the hexagon Pyrrha had taught him to slash at, only to keep meeting Crescent Rose blow for blow. A swipe at her arm was met with Crescent Rose's frame, a wide swing to her head met air as she ducked. On and on this went for what felt like a solid minute, Ruby unable to attack back thanks to her weapon's built-in range.

But Ruby could have easily darted back and started shooting at him again. She either had forgotten or she was going easy on him.

The latter could not be an option.

He pushed himself, his swings getting faster but wilder. Each swing felt like his arm would rip out of his shoulder socket from raw centrifugal force. Ruby looked more than a little concerned in response, but still seemed as though she was pinned down.

 _Come on, come on, back out,_ he pleaded mentally to her.

She finally blacked out in a flurry of petals, swapping Crescent Rose back into its sniper rifle form. She squeezed off a shot, two shots, three shots as she darted away, one catching him square in the chest. The raw energy of the .50 caliber slug smacking into the Aura above his heart echoed with pain as he was sent backwards. He landed on his butt and slid across the field, skidding to a stop after 15 feet.

Some part of his mind conjured Eliphas in his mind's eye, threatening him with that meltagun again.

He got to his feet just as another 50-cal slammed into the ground where his feet had been. Without hesitation he swapped back to Cadia's pistol form and returned fire, the two now trying to outgun one another. On the ground 10 feet to his right was Titan, but Ruby's shots were blocking him off from retrieving the Bersa. He darted towards Titan, but he felt another shot breeze past his nose, only tickling his Aura with promises of pain as it passed.

"Jesus!" He screamed as he screeched to a halt, arms flailing in circles to stop him from falling over. Another bang and another gust of wind tickled his neck.

Instinct kicked in as he dove for the gun. He slid into grabbing range and scooped it up without a second's hesitation, yanking back the slide to receive the encouraging click of a chambered shot.

"Come on, kick her butt," cried Nora.

There was the audible sound of a punch a second later with a cry of "Ow!" from Nora again.

"Get in there and kick his ass, Ruby," Yang retorted.

Jacob rolled to the side as Ruby continued to shoot at him. With a spin he was on his feet again, leveling his sights without a second thought and cutting loose.

But as he fired, he noticed a pattern. While Ruby seemed to either be corralling him with her shots or intentionally missing, Jacob couldn't get a bead on her to retaliate. She was zipping around too much, the battlefield becoming a swirling vortex of rose petals in her wake. A shot would ring out, she would dart away from the source, another shot that zoomed by him. He'd snap a shot off but she would dart away before the bullet was even shot.

Jacob was shooting the breeze at this point, and he was going to run out of ammo soon if he wasn't careful.

A 50-cal slug slammed into his knee. He felt the whole leg seize up in pain as he hit the ground in a kneel.

The barrage stopped. Ruby hung in midair for a half of a second before she fired Crescent Rose behind her, turning into a red comet of cuteness and pain.

Jacob snapped Cadia into her chainsword mode and swung.

He blinked.

 _ **CLANG!**_

He opened his eyes to the sight of Crescent Rose's barrel lodged deep into the chainsword's teeth. Even with how large the barrel of the rifle was, the teeth were still deep enough and spaced out enough to snag the gun between them.

Jacob didn't give her the chance to back out. He twisted hard with Cadia, the teeth aligning to take the scythe along for the ride. Ruby's grip was strong, but not strong enough as he twisted it out of her hand and sent it flying back behind him.

Jacob dropped Titan again and reached into his pocket. Turned out that he was wrong earlier: Ice and Fire, a smokescreen.

He popped its pin off and dropped it at his feet.

Ruby's silvery eyes lit up with surprise. A sharp bang and a sudden smokescreen some 30 feet wide obscured them both a second later.

Jacob swiped at her but she ducked around behind him if the gust of wind was any indicator. He heard Ruby's footfalls retreat away from him as he returned to his feet with Titan in hand again His leg was still throbbing in pain; adrenaline was numbing it but that could only last so long. He followed her footfalls and heard her stumble ahead of him. He followed and saw her just outside of the blast radius.

Evidently, she saw him too, as she looked back and seemed to spy Crescent Rose behind her. She moved to run and grab it only to have a .308 slam into her side, her Aura crackling to life. The impact stunned her long enough—merely a second, really—for Jacob to snap off two more shots into her chest and another into her face. The last one in her face seemed to stun her even more.

He saw the pain on her face as she whipped back, her Aura flaring in response to the assailing bullets. Seconds felt like minutes. His mind roared to life as he assessed his situation, coming to a startling conclusion:

He was in control of the fight.

Something piqued in the back of his mind. A memory flashed of a finishing move.

One Titus did for an execution in the _Space Marine_ game.

He stepped closer, expecting her to back up; she was still stunned, but it was fading fast as the clarity returned to her eyes. He wrapped a hand around her back and pulled her in closer to the chainsword.

He gunned Cadia, her whirling teeth roaring to life. He slashed into her stomach, prepared for the worst.

Even with her Aura still up, the feeling and sounds made his adrenaline-numbed stomach turn in disgust.

Cadia's teeth bounced across her Aura, digging in and tearing at it as if it were a wall of concrete protecting the squishy flesh beneath. Ruby screamed in surprise and pain as Cadia and Jacob both roared. It held for a second or two, but between hearing Ruby's screams, Cadia's roars and the thrumming pulse of his own thundering heart, it felt like it lasted an hour. A horrified thought crossed is mind: If he held for too long, he'd turn her insides into puree.

He had enough. He pulled back and cut the engine, Ruby doubling over and falling to the ground, her hands clutching her stomach.

Jacob looked down at his handiwork. His pulse was the thunder of a hurricane, his stomach a roiling sea, lungs heaving, brow soaked with sweat and his hands shaking in both terror and adrenal shock. Sure, he had used Cadia's chainsword form before, but that was against Grimm, who he had no sympathy for. Against a human, he had never made contact, everyone wisely ducking away or deflecting it. He had never made actual contact with another person before.

Cadia clinked in his shaking hand, laughing at the thought, almost.

Overhead, the klaxon sounded off. "And that's the match! Mr. Muller wins with a... _rather brutal_ final attack."

Jacob's shaking didn't stop as he looked up at the source.

Captain Titus was standing in the doorframe, watching Jacob intensely.

Jacob was confused and scared all at once.

 _...I won?_

He looked upwards at the board. Ruby's Aura had plummeted to 5% while his own skirted 18%.

"Oh... look at that... I won." His ragged breaths cut through his sentence as he suddenly felt an urge to sit down. He dropped Cadia on the ground and dropped to both of his knees beside Ruby. She was on the ground face-up now, still groaning in pain as she held her stomach. An old instinct took over, one he was too familiar with thanks to being being a big brother. "Ruby, are you okay? Talk to me."

She was quiet for a bit as he heard footfalls come up to them. "...I suddenly have questions as to why you haven't won before," she groaned. "Cadia should have won a fight like that hands-down with how her teeth felt."

He saw Yang's boots appear in his peripheral vision. "You okay, Ruby," she asked as she offered her baby sister a hand up. Jacob felt a firm but small hand lift him back onto his feet; Nora's boots were a dead giveaway as to who it was, though he turned and noticed a smiling Pyrrha on his other shoulder... though her smile seemed tinged with some manner of worry.

"Yeah and no," Ruby replied as she got up with Yang's help. "No, it turns out Cadia actually... actually kinda hurts to get hit by."

"I'll say," Weiss replied, a nervous edge beneath her joking tone. "Any more of that and... well, let's not focus on that aspect."

"I knew it would do damage to Aura 'cause of, well, being a mini-chainsaw," Jaune said with a tone of surprise, "but it just kept dropping."

Another set of footsteps joined them. "As was expected," Titus said from behind them as they turned to hear him. "Chainswords are a nasty weapon to encounter. You're lucky that your Aura was as high as it was at the time."

"Uncle," Pyrrha asked, "what do you mean? Have you... seen this before?"

Titus didn't respond at first. There was a look in his eyes, and Jacob had a good idea what it meant. "...I've seen similar," he said. "A long time ago."

Jacob didn't need to play mind games to know what he meant. Footage of _Space Marine_ was more than enough example of what he really meant.

"Anyway," Yang said, "you were gonna say something else, Ruby?"

Jacob heard Weiss mutter something about rudeness beneath her breath.

"Oh, right, other than, well, the ache, I feel good. And Jacob should too."

Everyone seemed to glace around before turning their sights on Jacob.

"I suppose that's true," Weiss answered in earnest. "Congratulations on your first victory, training status notwithstanding."

To some it would have come across as a backhanded compliment, but coming from Weiss that meant something. "Thanks, Weiss. Yeah, I guess... I guess I won."

Nora slugged him on the shoulder with a hoot and said, "damn right that was a victory! Woot!"

"It was a good fight," Ren admitted. "Certainly both entertaining and enlightening to watch."

The rest muttered amongst themselves, with Ruby, Pyrrha and Jaune flashing him big smiles and a thumbs-up from Ruby.

Jacob felt the potential terror ebb away. It only shrank away faster when he felt a legitimate smile grow on his cheeks.

He finally won a duel.

He turned to Titus, however, and was met with both a smile on the outside and an underlying glance of incredulity in the look in his eyes.

This was gonna need some explaining.

* * *

"That was an attack straight out of the Codex Astartes, Mr. Muller."

"Would you believe me if I told you that I learned it from _you_ in all actuality?"

"...I presume there is a, movie about one my missions? Or perhaps a novel?"

"...It's from a video game, sir. It's about the Graia Incident."

Silence for a second. "I see," Titus replied with an intrigued tone. They continued walking in silence, the sun now peeking through the fading cloud cover over the city. Even for a late afternoon it was a pleasant temperature outside, the sun hardly beating down as he was used to back home.

Perfect weather for a stroll with an Ultramarine to meet with his fellow Imperials for a late lunch.

 _Damn that's still a weird sentence._

"Considering what we have read in your Codices, I have a feeling that it may be a… _non-canonical_ game, if what the book implies is the truth."

Jacob grimaced. "What do you mean, sir?"

"Please do not play dumb with me, Mr. Muller," he replied with a sigh that betrayed an eye roll. "Considering that Cato Sicarius—whom I remember as the 4th Company's Captain—is the Captain of the 2nd in your book, Uriel Ventris is 4th Captain in the book whereas he was 3rd Captain when I left Macragge for Graia, et cetera."

The grimace never left. "Honestly, Captain, I don't even know what defines 'canon' anymore."

Titus chuckled. "I suppose that's a fair assessment. Nevertheless, I can't lie that my curiosity is peaked."

Jacob found himself pondering the same thing as they continued towards the Wharf District. Captain Titus wasn't wrong in his own assessments. In the 40k tabletop, the pompous, Mary-Sue asshole known as Cato Sicarius was the acting 2nd Company Captain of the Ultramarines, and yet Captain Titus was supposed to be the 2nd Captain too. Granted, Cato had been 5th Captain before he was 2nd, supposedly, but according to Titus he was now 4th Captain and Ventris was 3rd Captain. So what happened to make him Captain of the... the 3rd? Or the 4th?

Jacob clutched his head as the numbers danced in a circle in his mind. "Okay, trying to piece that together is making everything feel like I'm on a merry-go-round," he muttered aloud.

Another chuckle from Titus. "Again, understandable. But my comment still stands."

Jacob fought the dizziness as he began to answer him. "I think the game developers wanted a Captain who wasn't an outright square with Mary Sue-levels of plot armor," Jacob replied, "so they... invented you, I guess, or just... imagined another continuity or something."

"Plot armor?"

Jacob sighed. "Let's just say that after a fellow by the name of Matt Ward—an obsessive Ultramarine fan—became a part of the tabletop game's dev team, well, the Ultramarines went from having Captains as equal in power as most other Captains to having... Captains survive battles with his Company against _ten thousand Orks on Black Reach with only_ _ **combat knives and chainswords**_ _._ " The clenching of his jaw as he said that last statement would have cracked a steer's tibia like a fortune cookie.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Titus look at him with a lone raised brow and a mouth open in question. "That raises so many questions I could not _begin to list_ them all off before _nightfall_."

"All the better we discuss it when it doesn't boil my blood," Jacob said in reply. "But, actually, let's get back on the original topic. You saw my whole fight, right?"

"Yes, yes, both fights, actually. Admittedly, that first one against Ms. Schnee had me rubbing my temples."

Jacob pinched his brow in embarrassment. "I sucked hard, didn't I?"

"Sucked isn't the word I would have used, but it's on the money for what I would have meant."

Jacob sighed. "She's damned good at putting her glyphs to use, especially after watching me, I think."

Titus looked over at him. "And what makes you think it was you who gave her the idea to use the ice as a veil to her next attack?"

"Well, come on, Captain. Last time she and I fought, I dropped smokescreens twice on her head and they worked well enough that we were neck-and-neck for a short time."

"A good observation, but anyone can come up with that idea when push comes to shove. A lesser-used tactic in the Codex Astartes suggests that a Rhino carrying a Devastator Squad should activate its smoke launchers before the Devastators get out and open fire."

Now Jacob's curiousity was piqued. "Really," he asked. "The only tactic I knew about from the Codex was the Steel Rain manuever."

"Oh yes," Titus replied with a grimace of his own, "Steel Rain." He took a deep breath through his nose.

"You don't care for it?"

"Oh no, it's always been a sound strategy of the Codex Astartes," he said, "but no other Captain besides myself seems willing to deviate from it. As much as drop pods are expendable, you end up on a battlefield with no vehicular support in the immediate vicinity unless you land close to your battleline, which completely negates—"

"—which completely negates a drop-pod-based deep strike in the first—"

 **"** —In the first place! **"**

Jacob and Titus glanced at one another. They both chuckled.

"Well, I wouldn't know much in regards to setting up an army properly in all honesty." Jacob said with a sigh. "On the tabletop—at least when I could actually play back home—I have only won a single game in the 7 months since I got started actually playing."

Titus turned and looked at him with a curious glance. "7 months seems like a short time to learn as much as you have," he said with a hint of doubt.

Jacob nodded as they continued onwards. "Well, I started learning about 40k much earlier. I started playing _Dawn of War_ almost a decade ago, and even by then it was about 5 or 6 years old; I played it and all of its expansions, but I wasn't one for models at the time, so I turned down the tabletop game. "Board games are for people with no TV," I think I said once when I was a young brat." He chuckled at the irony of his younger self's statement. "Actually, come to think of it I was amazed that I was allowed to play that, since it was a Mature-rated game, what with all the gore and such. Anyway, a few years later and your game _Space Marine_ came out, but by then I had moved on to other game franchises and... I just kinda forgot about it."

Jacob sighed heavily as he continued. "Then, about a year and a half ago now, I picked up your game on a sale and thought I'd have a go at it. By then I was going a lot more art-type stuff, so after playing through the campaign and a a week's worth of the multiplayer, I thought, 'hey, why not grab a few models and paint them up. Even if I don't do an actual army, it might be fun.' So, I did; and my wallet has been drained of probably a thousand dollars since then, building my Marine army and my Guard army... and neither are anywhere near complete."

Silence from both of them as they continued onwards, the sounds of a living city buzzing in the backdrop.

"What Chapter?"

Jacob glanced up. "Huh?"

"I didn't recognize your Marine's colors," Titus said. "If I had to guess... Characharadons Astra? Perhaps the Angels Revenant?"

Jacob hummed a single chortle. "Actually, Captain," he began, "Since the game first began it has been common for someone to come up with their own Chapter and then use a tactic from the original Codex chapters."

"Ah, so you made your own. What do you call them?"

"I actually waffled for a while on what to name them; eventually I noticed my colors were all like those you see in a thunderstorm, so I started doing 'Storm-Something'; Storm Wolves, Storm Angels, Storm Reapers, et cetera. I've finally pinned them down as 'Storm Wraiths'."

"Storm Wraiths. I like it," he said. "Rolls off the tongue, ominous, still fits most Chapters' naming schemes. What parent Chapter?"

Now _there_ was a question he didn't have an answer for. "I, uh, actually, I haven't decided."

"...You're serious."

"Look, a lot of the tactics are nice and even more of the First Founding Chapters have cool lore! I am literally stuck between the Raven Guard, the Imperial Fists and the White Scars for which Chapter Tactic I prefer, cut me some slack!"

"Why not the Ultramarines?"

Jacob felt it was a loaded question, but he would answer it anyway. "Because Ultramarine players—despite their fairly huge population amongst players as of now—are the black sheep of Space Marine players. Blame Matt Ward for those shenanigans of his, they're the reason everyone leers at Ultramarines and their players."

"From what I read in your book, the ability to reroll 1s to hit on a particular squad type of your choice would prove more than worth it."

"Well, if I had the 8th Edition Codex for Space Marines, maybe it would be an even better rule since they were simplifying everything for new players."

They continued their discussions for the next ten minutes, going back and forth about the Marine Chapters that Titus knew and Jacob spilling some of the secrets that were known. It turned out that otherwise his timeline was not very different from that of the original 40k timeline: Goge Vandire and his Galaxy-scale Reign of Terror, the Ecclesiarchy assuming command, the various Black Crusades Abaddon went on, even the Badab War was supposedly the same with the Lamenters and Mantis Warriors and all the other Chapters who sided with Huron now on Penitent Crusades of their own.

Fortunately, nothing new, but at the same time, sadly, nothing new; no real compare-and-contrast moments for Jacob to learn about, no new foes for the Imperium to tangle with, nada.

The ten minutes passed and they arrived in front of the Harbor and Hearth, the savory smell of meat and fresh bread making Jacob's stomach cry out in anguish.

"Oh, this is gonna be so good," he muttered to himself.

They entered and were immediately met by a young Faunus waiter at the door. If the tail was any indicator, she was a monkey Faunus just like Sun was, albeit one of black fur rather than gold.

"Hi," she began, "May I help you?"

Titus stepped up. "We're part of the He'Stan party. We were a bit late, I'm afraid."

"Oh! Yes, they're upstairs on the balcony," she replied, "Follow me please."

Jacob couldn't help but notice a strange nervousness from her as they followed behind. She seemed to glance back at him in particular once or twice.

Maybe it was his paranoia, but he could swear that his Aura was prickling from its slumbering state.

Beset with the sight of a massive collection of tables all combined together to host a feast. Around the super-table sat the entirety of the Imperial population of Remnant as far as Jacob was aware. Cain and Spinoza busy talking from the center of the mass—presumably swapping stories about their days in the Schola Progenium if Jacob had to guess—with Darnath Lysander on her left side and Vulkan across from him. Logan and Gabriel seemed to be having a minor argument of some kind at the opposite side of the table from when Jacob and Titus now stood, though it seemed to be of little severity if the flashes of smiles they shared were any indicator. Lysander's daughter was sitting beside her father, Cain was staring hungrily at a menu, and at the far end of the table Vulkan sat beside Mira, both discussing something of their own.

"What's this," Titus announced loudly, "You started without us?"

Everyone looked up and gained various levels of smiles. A chorus of greetings and cheers met them.

"About time," Angelos said. "We were wondering if you had gotten lost on the way here!"

"Oh yes, you would know all about getting lost in a city, would you Gabriel?"

The table erupted into laughter. Gabriel managed to save face with a cocked brow and a smile that when combined asked the unspoken question, _Really? Going there, I see?_ "In my defense," The Blood Raven began, pointing his fork at Titus, "I was drunk and it had been my first night in Mistral."

Another laugh around the table. Jacob had a good base idea of what he meant, but it was still a vague image he would ask about later. "Uh," he stammered, unsure of whether to greet them with formality again or informality.

 _Play it safe_ , he thought. _Formality it is_.

"Chapter Masters," he began cordially with a weak but still genuine smile. "Captains. Commissar. Inquisitor. Good to see you all again."

For a second, he was worried that the friendliness in the room would dissipate the second he had spoken up. For the most part he was proven wrong.

"Please, Jacob," Mira said with a bit of a chuckle, "There's no need for formalities."

"As much as we appreciate the gesture," Vulkan said, "You're one of us. Come, sit down, get something to eat. You've got to be starving."

Jacob let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. "Uh, thank you." He walked over to one of the chairs available, in this case the one beside Vulkan and Gabriel near the end of the table, while Titus took the seat opposite of him between Mira and Vulkan.

Jacob took a conscious deep breath this time. He let his body go a bit slack as he let all of his nervous muscles unclench themselves.

The waitress came by and got orders from everyone, Jacob noticing that she still seemed to shy away from him a bit until the end. He ordered a simple burger and fries and before he could even say thank you, she was walking away at a brisk pace.

Again, his Aura bristled a warning that he quickly brushed aside. _You're just being more paranoid than usual,_ he thought to himself, _relax for a change._

About that time, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Gabriel was staring at him with a bemused yet hawkish look in his eyes. Jacob did what he can to avoid meeting his gaze; the thought that Jacob was sympathetic to the Dark Gods clearly was a thought still running around in Gabriel's head.

"So," Vulkan began, "Where were you two anyhow?"

"Mr. Muller was preoccupied with a sparring match between a few of the members of Team RWBY when I had arrived," Titus replied.

"Really," Gabriel said, "All things considered—no offense to you intended, Mr. Muller—those girls are quite a daunting opponent to face for someone so new to the Huntsman game."

Even if it was a verbal burn, Jacob still felt a strange sense of awe hearing the voice that Paul Dobson had created talk about him directly. Jacob, of course, still registered it as a critique of his skill, albeit a rightly-assessed one in the back of his mind.

"Gabriel," Mira said half-warningly, "I'm sure Jacob did perfectly fine fighting them."

Titus grimaced a bit. "Against Ms. Schnee, I'm afraid he was thoroughly beaten."

Gabriel chuckled once.

"Against Ms. Rose, however, he won the fight with a rather Astartes-like attack," he announced. "One that he told me he learned from playing... playing a video game about the Invasion of Graia."

Several sets of brows rose in response. "A bloody _video game,"_ Logan asked with a laugh. "First a tabletop game, now video games. What next, a movie?"

Jacob held his tongue. The less that was said about _Ultramarines_ , the better.

"What kind of attack was it," asked Gabriel.

"Well," Titus began, "it was a crude attack, mostly; she had been stunned by a couple close-range shots he had hit her with, so he bought her in close with one arm and, well, applied Cadia's chain to her stomach."

There was a cringe of pain that echoed around the table.

"Oh hell," Darnath said with a chuckle. "Is she alright?"

"She was fine when we departed, but I think Mr. Muller was a little shaken."

"Well," Jacob began, "it's kinda the first time I've gotten purchase on something other than a practice-Grimm. I honestly wasn't expecting that considering Creeps can get sliced like butter with a hot knife; but regardless, I mean, hearing Ruby cry out like that kinda... sank my stomach down towards my feet."

Almost the entire table nodded in response. "For those who actually use chainswords, you never forget your first kill with one," Cain replied. "My first kill was an Ork Nob who was already shredded by Chimera fire when I reached him."

"Dark Eldar Corsair on Bogden II," said Darnath.

"Heretic guardsman on Cadia," said Mira. "Was abandoning his post, turned out to have fetish of Tzeentch on his person. I still remember that pride I felt when I stood over his shredded corpse. Emperor's teeth, is it weird to think about."

"Anyways, I actually have been meaning to ask you about that," Jacob said as he turned to Titus. "From what you saw in our duel, how _bad_ is my swordsmanship?"

Titus seemed to suddenly be analyzing Jacob like a battlefield map, a cold tactical deliberation in his eyes that betrayed the small smile he wore. It made sense seeing as he was an Ultramarine, but it still had Jacob dreading the answer. "I, uh, I hate to say it," he began a second later, "But I don't think a chainsword is the right weapon for you with the way you're using it."

Being told that by Captain Titus stung more than Myrtenaster. "Well, that's disheartening."

There was silence as the table observed them. Ciaphas cleared his throat. "As much as I don't want to unnecessarily pry," he began, "How bad was it, in details?"

Titus sighed. "As I said, he fights too much like an Astartes with it when he doesn't have the necessary build for it."

"Swings it more like a club?"

Jacob chimed in as Titus answered, "Yep."

"And by that logic he is definitely putting in the commitment to the strike, but it's too much?"

Titus seemed to hum and haw about it as Jacob tried to understand what he meant. "Mr. Muller can't really find that happy middle ground, I'm afraid. That strike against Ms. Rose was good, but otherwise he seemed to either hesitate or to put too much into the swing, as I saw earlier in your fight with Ms. Schnee. But his biggest problem was actually using it at all; every time he attempted to use it, it was either for utility rather than actual damage, either controlling their movement—often to his detriment, ironically—or yanking their weapons away if he could."

Jacob audibly scoffed. "I wish I was that coordinated," he said. "Outside of yanking Crescent Rose out of Ruby's hand or blocking an attack, every one of those attacks was meant to be a desperate attempt at a cleaving strike. I will admit I forgot to gun the engine once with Weiss, but otherwise they were all supposed to—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang on," Cain interrupted. "You're gunning the engine? Just flat-out?"

Jacob grimaced. "I should be feathering it, shouldn't I?"

"Not necessarily," he replied. "Feathering it does no good, but flat-out gunning it give it no chance to sink in. Best thing to do is either to not hit the engine at all or rev it a bit so it can hook on."

"I designed his chainsword with beginners in mind," Vulkan said as he sipped from a tall glass of water. "It's supposed to be based off the Hell's Teeth design we used as Astartes; serrated, curved teeth, casing to protect against kickback, lightweight trigger, et cetera."

"A Hell's Teeth-pattern!? Bloody hell, Vulkan," Cain replied, "Those are _designed_ with brute force in mind!"

Vulkan shrugged. "It seemed like something an Imperial would enjoy using; and at the time I was wondering if Jacob was an Imperial."

"Yes, but—"

" **Gentlemen,"** Gabriel said forcefully. "Perhaps instead of arguing about his weapon, perhaps we should argue over who to train him properly in the ways of chainswordsmanship. Judging by the lack of comment on his baseline swordsmanship and his marksmanship, it seems he at least has basics down to brass tax, as it were. Am I guessing wrongly, Titus?"

Titus shook his head. "No, his marksmanship seems decent enough, at least when not dealing with opponents as fast as Ms. Rose. Granted, his precision is a mixed bag, but his accuracy is better than most first-year Beacon Huntsmen. "

"Oh please," Jacob snorted, I am not _that_ good. Sure, back home I used to do a lot of recreational target shooting, but that's different than any manner of training these kids got."

"It's as sturdy a baseline as any other," Mira offered.

"Admittedly, Mr. Muller, there's nothing really to comment about your swordsmanship; Pyrrha's training is serving you well, all things considered."

"Considering this is Pyrrha Nikos we're talking about here," Vulkan said, "You'll be mopping the floor with your opponents in no time if your training continues."

"I suppose. Granted," Jacob added, "if my fight today had been against, say, Pyrrha, then I would never beat her in all honestly; she'd probably just keep waxing the floor with me."

Rey rolled her eyes from the other side of the table. "Pyrrha is good," she said with a bit of a laugh, "but you know as well as I do she puts too much into her Semblance; one of these days there'll be an opponent not wearing metal on them and she'll be in a rough spot."

Jacob tried to mentally process that. At first he wanted to reply that Pyrrha did not rely that much on her Semblance, only for his memory to shut him up as it played Mercury and Emerald's analysis of Pyrrha's fighting in _Extracurricular_.

 _"_ _Her_ _Semblance_ _is Polarity. But you'd never know just by watching."_

 _"After she made contact with my boots, she was able to move them around however she wanted. But she only made slight adjustments."_

 _"Just enough to make it look like she's untouchable. She doesn't broadcast her power, so it puts her opponent at a disadvantage."_

"And Cinder's weapons and gear contain no metal, only cloth, —some Dust maybe—and some kind of glass. Even her shoes are glass, just like little Cinderella in the fairytale. No wonder Pyrrha lost her battle."

As he ended the sentence he realized he had been speaking aloud, albeit in a mutter. He looked around to see the rest of the table watching him intensively.

Jacob looked around and noticed the room around them was starting to fill up, but only a few tables seemed to be in conversation. The rest sat in disquieting silence.

"Right, Pyrrha's assailant; _future_ assailant, rather."

Jacob was pulled back into the conversation by Titus' comment. His gaze met the sight of the Ultramarine, crestfallen, staring down at the placemat in front of him. Mira's hand held his arm tightly in assurance as her own brow furrowed.

"I recognize her now," Mira said. "She's posing as a student from Mistral. You, RWBY and JNPR have her as a 'classmate' for the Vytal Festival."

Jacob huffed through his nose. "Don't remind me."

"Then she has the Fall Maiden's powers," Gabriel said deep in thought, "correct?"

Jacob nodded solemnly. He noticed Vulkan and Cain also looking crestfallen now.

"Well, we at least know who our would-be usurper is. The good news is that she failed at her initial task; the bad news is that she is no doubt seeking out Amber to complete the power transfer."

The prickle of his Aura returned. Jacob felt a pit grow in his stomach; what was he missing, and why was his Aura trying to alert him to it?

"But," Logan said as he set his water glass down, "we now have an advantage since we now know what they're going to do. Mr. Muller?"

All eyes turned on him. His nerves began to waver again. "Well," he began lowly, "first of all, are we sure that it's safe to talk here, y'know, _in public?_ "

"We've discussed things in private here before," Vulkan replied. "The owner is well acquainted with our need for privacy. Notice how well the acoustics are dampened in this room?"

Jacob took a second to listen as he looked around the room. Even though there was a sizeable count of patrons around them, it was no noisier than a theater just before a movie; a bit of chatter, but hardly above a background din. "Nice," he said lowly. "Regardless, this is still kinda high-profile."

"Nevertheless," Gabriel said, "Vulkan's choice comes with some advantages too, considering no one would dare to attack in a public place only a mile and a half from one of Vale's major police stations. Anyway, let's focus on the matter at hand; Ms. Fall and her plans."

"You mean Salem's plans."

A few of the Astartes stiffened in response to her name. Vulkan grimaced and Titus huffed.

Jacob more or less recoiled into himself in response. "Is her name a taboo myth or something?"

"No," Vulkan said, "but we've all had encounters with her forces now. Most of us were concerned that she was the one behind all of this, but now hearing it from you, we can confirm everything is tied together."

"And, uh, what about Ms. Lysander? Delia, right? Or, uh, do you prefer Rey?"

The girl seemed to swirl the question around in her mind for a second. "Rey," she said after a second. "Only mom and dad call me Delia; do it again and I won't hold back a beating."

Somewhere in the back of Jacob's mind, the Marneus Calgar of _If the Emperor Had a Text-To-Speech Device_ called out, _"You beggin' for a fistin' boy?"_

"Fair enough, Rey," Jacob said. "But my concern—"

"Mr. He'Stan filled me in a few years ago," she replied, "to answer your question. It was after I encountered this... really monstrous Grimm outside of Mistral."

Jacob's stomach jumped. _That can't be the Nuckelavee she's talking about, right?_ He filed that query away for future reference. "Okay then, you're up to speed. Anyway, so you guys want the baseline from me, right?"

Several nods from around the table responded.

He sighed. "Well, brace yourselves on this stuff."

So, he told them. He spent minute after minute giving them the baseline and the key details of what would happen leading up to the end of Volume 3—really, that was his top priority whereas the stuff some 6 or more months after that could be dealt with in time. One would pipe up with a question and he would answer with what he did know, at least to what the show had informed its audience of thus far.

Jacob looked down at his watch at one point near the end. He and Titus had arrived at the restaurant at around 1:00, and the clock was now 15 minutes shy of 2:00; since then, their meals had arrived and been consumed with ease. Even the waitress' demeanor seemed to get better somewhat, though there was a still a nagging tinge of fear to her when she approached him. Hell, even a few Faunus in the same room seemed to shy away from eye contact with him.

Jacob started wondering if the White Fang were soapboxing against the Huntsmen as a moonlight gig.

He leaned back in his chair as he said, "So, that's all I can really say. I just went over every key detail, every plot point, every misstep made by both Ozpin and our intrepid young heroes. Are there any other questions?"

The rest of the table sat watching him in analytical comprehension, visibly weighing things within their heads. Jacob had to be thankful that the Imperials he was with right now were the more sensible and tactical bunch rather than, say, Grimaldus or Gabriel Seth. Not that those guys wouldn't have been cool to meet.

"If anything, I have one in particular," Titus said as he kneaded his hands together over an empty plate. "How much would you say has or will change based on what is different alone: our existence here, your existence here, how much has changed because of these variables?"

Jacob sighed. "Not much thus far, I'm afraid. Including us, some new players are in this fight, even if most of us here have been fighting this battle for a long time. Outside of that, things have remained relatively canonical, and that's both scary and fortuitous for us."

"Do tell," Vulkan said flatly.

Jacob shifted and cleared his throat. "On the one hand, the continuous adherence to canon on my part could also mean that once we reach the point where we—really, I should be say that they're my own preferences rather than yours since you probably have different ideas on the matter, but anyway—where we want to start deviating, it could very well no longer a be negotiable; events will happen in that order and there will be no way to stop it. A fixed timeline conundrum, to use sci-fi terminology."

He paused for a second to let it sink in. The Imperials watched him while their minds clearly considered his conundrum.

"On the other hand," Jacob continued, "Adhering to canonical events gives us a tremendous advantage, and that is the advantage of being a step ahead of our enemy. This is something even Salem is probably not familiar with, and that we can use to our benefit."

"But if we capitalize on it," Logan said, scratching his 5 o'clock shadow, "won't that change things?"

Jacob shrugged as he answered, "Yes and no. The trick is allowing core events to occur while minimizing the downsides _and_ still herding them along a particular path. Basically, we gotta act like we're Tzeentch, but without the Chaos Demons and the malignancy and everything that makes a God of Chaos. We have to scheme and hope that the dice rolls come out on top for us, because if they don't then we are up the creek without a paddle."

Logan suddenly looked agitated. "Sneaking around and scheming when we know who our enemies are and what their plan is? I don't like it."

"We should reveal them and capture them," Gabriel replied. "Then we avoid this entire headache, the city is saved from the invasion, and Pyrrha is also saved."

"That may be," Jacob replied, "But it could backfire on us and Salem instead launches an even greater attack further down the line, packing enough Grimm and White Fang members to level the city and everyone in it, Huntsman or not. As much as I want to go with your plan, Master Angelos—Gabriel, sorry—the variables become exponentially more difficult to deal with. We know what's coming and can minimize damage, in theory at least."

"With Eliphas assisting the White Fang, I have no doubt that we should expect to see Chaos Marines amongst their ranks."

Jacob grimaced. "True, Eliphas the Inheritor is here, somehow. Have any of you encountered any other Chaos leadership?"

"A few of us have," Logan replied. "I myself have been dealing with a renegade from my own Chapter."

 _Must be Svane Vulfbad,_ Jacob assessed in his head as he nodded. "Anyone else?"

"There have been on-and-off sightings of the Iron Warriors Legion symbol amongst raided villages on the borders of Vacuo," Darnath said with a concealed snarl. "One of Perturabo's sons is no doubt out there, though he hasn't revealed himself yet."

"A few years ago I encountered a former Alpha Legion lord in Mistral who had been building a force of collaborators and spies in Mistral's underbelly," answered Titus, "but I managed to take his head from his shoulders in short order."

"If by 'short order' you mean you were on his case for 6 months," Mira said with a smirk.

"There have been other sightings of marks that are familiar," Vulkan replied in finality for the group, "but most have been dead-ends; a Red Corsair tattoo on a sellsword in Mistral, a World Eater maw carved into the wall of a raided village, even the signs of Emperor's Children that are so distinct and disgusting I would loathe to describe them even in private company."

Jacob had a good idea of what he meant, and it sickened him. He shook a bit as he said, "So, Eliphas is the only Chaos Marine that we currently have any _direct confirmation_ of in regards to his existence?"

A collection of nods confirmed his suspicions.

Jacob ran a hand through his hair. "Jesus Christ," he muttered. "What about other Imperials? Who else is out there?"

Everyone seemed to hesitate on the answer, though Jacob could see that they seemed to know the answer. _They still don't trust me entirely,_ he thought to himself. _Understandable, but not helpful._

After a second, it was Cain who answered him. "There are a fair number of Imperial Loyalists scattered across Remnant," he said, "and they hail from practically every corner of the Imperium. Mira and Titus have a friend back in Mistral who flies their Valkyrie for them, a Legionnaire from Armageddon. She's mean as an Ursa and twice as strong, and she's now on her way with said Valkyrie. Meanwhile I have been communicating with an old friend of ours, and he was supposedly to arrive on Monday. He's a former apothecary of the Red Scorpions Chapter, but a lot less neurotic than the rest of his brothers in regards to 'purity'."

Jacob nodded. _A former apothecary. Good, a medic will be more than welcome._

"One of my old classmates from Haven was a Loyalist Astartes as well," Lysander replied, "A Storm Warden Chaplain, still acts like one to this day. He runs alone these days ever since his team broke apart, but I still have his Scroll number; said he'd be in town in time for the Dance, and from what you told us it sounds like he couldn't arrive at a better time if he tried."

Jacob scratched his chin. "A Chaplain, huh? That'll be nice to see, watch him beat some sense into some heretics. Anyone else from the 1st Founding Chapters? Dark Angels, Blood Angels, White Scars, Raven Guard, Iron Hands?"

"There are members from each of those Chapters," said Mira, "but most have informed us that they can't make it due to personal problems. Some will make an attempt to reach us, but they make no promises; Librarian Sugodai of the White Scars, Chapter Master Severax of the Raven Guard, Captain Khafs Mesruc of the Iron Hands, et cetera. Oddly, we have yet to encounter a Dark Angel."

 _Corvin Severax, another deceased Chapter Master. Killed by... not Farsight, no it was, uh, Shadowsun, right, Shadowsun during the Damocles Crusade._

"Well, knowing their plight and their broody behavior, it's no surprise," Jacob replied with a devious smile as he mentally double-backed to the Dark Angels; out of all of the Loyalists, he loved teasing Dark Angels players about what happened on Caliban. "Considering their past, it's no surprise that they probably seek out either a bloody war-like path or try to atone for what happened on Caliban through simple livelihoods, at least as far as I'd wager."

Most of the group looked around at one another in confusion.

"Oh, right, The Dark Angels keep that secret. Let's just say that it wasn't only the White Scars who were split half-and-half between loyalties during the Horus Heresy, and their unusual habit of Black Templar-like behaviors are a side effect of them eternally atoning for their 'sins' and whatnot. They're harder on themselves than I am on myself, and I hate being proud of things; makes me feel like an asshole-in-training."

"…And as for the Blood Angels," Titus began, almost hesitantly, "Well, judging by how prevalent he is in the Blood Angel rulebook, you are not going to like who it is."

Jacob wondered and worried in unison at that. What did they mean by that.

"Titus," Gabriel said almost sternly, only to be interrupted by Mira.

"Gabriel, please." She looked Jacob in the eyes. "Our Blood Angel contact is... Chapter Master Dante."

Jacob's world suddenly felt like it was sitting at a Dutch angle. "Dante!?"

Several of the Astartes harshly shushed him. He oblidged, but didn't stop with his freakout, now lowering his voice to a hiss. "You mean to tell me that the Blood Angels are now bereft of their longest-lived and strongest Chapter Master since Sanguinius Himself was alive?!"

"Calm down, calm down," Cain replied.

"Oh my God, my brother would lose his mind he found out about this," Jacob said as he ran his hands through his hair. "Does no one in your version of 40k have plot armor, or just other people?"

They knew his question what rhetorical and thus said nothing in response at first. About that time, the waitress came up to them, offering checks to Vulkan and Titus. Then she turned to Jacob and offered him the check for his meal, gingerly holding it out as though he would take her hand with it. He took it and set it down on the mat in front of him as he continued to massage a massive headache now forming in his temples. Oddly enough, it felt Aura-spawned, as if the warning bells it had been giving off had returned in full force.

"Uh, Mr. Muller," Vulkan began, "look at your receipt."

"Give me a minute, Vulkan, this headache's getting worse."

"Muller," Gabriel said forcefully and lowly, "you need to look down."

He glanced down at his receipt. The first thing he noticed was the price, no different from most restaurants back on Earth.

Then he noticed the handwritten message at the bottom.

 _ **White Fang in the building. After you, sent to kill you. Get out NOW!**_

Jacob felt his lunch shift to attempt to leave his stomach. He looked up to meet the gazes of everyone else.

Vulkan was startlingly calm, showing him the same message written on his receipt. Titus and Mira, both looking pale and jumpy, showed the same on theirs. Logan, Darnath, Gabriel, all of them had the same thing on theirs.

Jacob glanced around. How many of the other patrons were White Fang? Hell, while some Faunus were easy to spot—a pair of fox ears on a pale redhead in the back behind Titus, a massive bear Faunus whose size and ears stuck out like a sore thumb over Angelos' shoulder from where Jacob was sitting—others had more covert features, like Blake's friend Ilia had.

"We make for the front," Vulkan said in a hush. "Muller, you and Rey stay behind me. Logan, Gabriel, you're on point as we leave, Titus and Mira take the flank. Darnath, Cain and Luce, the sides."

"Like hell I'm sitting in the middle like a VIP," Jacob replied. "I'll take point, they'll single me out the most."

"Why's that," Vulkan asked.

"Because I'm the one who killed a new, untrained White Fang recruit."

Silence consumed even the breath that left their lungs. "Okay," Vulkan said, "I'll follow right behind you. Rey and Gabriel, you're up with him. The rest of us take the middle and flanks."

Jacob nodded. "Act casual, I don't think they know we've caught on to them." He took a deep breath. He stood up.

Half of the heads in the room turned to look at him.

Jacob reached into his mind, trying to conjure the flame to reawaken his Aura. He felt a tiny flicker, but the damage from his fight with Ruby hadn't fully begun to recover.

He was sitting on, at best, 25%, and that was if he had trained his Aura a little bit more.

Maybe taking point was a bad idea.

He took another deep breath as everyone else got up from their seats around the table. A half-dozen Astartes, an Inquisitor, a Commissar, and a Guardswoman stood up, hiding their contempt for their newly-found enemy. Rey, on the other hand, seemed to barely suppress a snarl as she glanced around them.

Jacob motioned for the door as he felt a nervous sweat crawl down his forehead. Each step was weighed down by tension as the room's eyes followed them to the stairwell. Jacob felt as though he was in a minefield; one false move, and the whole building would erupt into a firefight.

He started down the stairs, the sweat building. He fought the urge to fiddle with Cadia and Titan, but he couldn't help but hold his hands at his belt beside them. "Easy does it," he said to himself, the others doing well behind him.

They reached the bottom of the stairwell and began to walk faster towards the door. Almost to freedom—

A cloaked figure stood up from a seat in the front corner and moved towards them. Jacob moved for Cadia, yanking her out as he heard the sound of other guns leaving their holsters and chambering their payloads.

 _Duck,_ his Aura cried out.

A crossbow popped out from beneath the cloak, an arrow of energy loaded. With a twang it sailed, looking for purchase in his head.

He ducked and it sailed, pinging off of Vulkan's bright green Aura.

Hell descended.

Gunfire erupted throughout the building, some normal patrons taking to the ground out of the corner of Jacob's vison. The cloaked figure's crossbow morphed from beneath the flowing cascade of felt and reappeared as two daggers in the assailant's hands. Jacob pulled Titan and fired, the bullet sailing through the air and slamming into their shoulder. They didn't stop.

Jacob pulled Cadia and snapped her into her sword mode, just as the cloaked assailant made a spinning leap at him, blades turning into a razor-like dervish.

Before he could blink, a yellow shield popped in front of him, followed by Rey, her Remnantine power cudgel in hand. He blinked as he was tossed aside by the Lysander girl and when he opened his eyes the assailant had traveled five feet forwards, blades bouncing off her boarding shield. Rey ducked under the shield as the dervish continued, the assailant's attack turning into an accidental vault as he swung out beneath and slid back behind them. She brought her cudgel up and around the head detaching—no, revealing an attached chain in the handle. A flail for the daughter of Darnath Lysander.

All of this in the time he had to blink; it was as if the world had been in slow motion, like a bad Wachowski film.

Real speed came crashing back down on him and the cloaked figure as Rey's flail slammed into their back and threw them into the floor. Jacob looked back and saw she had spun into a superhero landing pose, only to whip her power flail around and catch a deer Faunus clean in the face. Jacob blinked and she was spinning in the air, the momentum of her attack throwing her into the air with stupid levels of control. She righted and swung, catching another off guard.

Jacob was pulled from watching her dance the Skull-Fracture Samba as Titus slammed into the wall beside Jacob, holding the bear Faunus from upstairs in a headlock. He spun around and slammed the Fang goon's head into the wall before kneeing him in the back, all the while holding an Astartes-sized knife in his hand. There was a flash as the Faunus' Aura quickly failed before Titus moved to the nearest window and introduced him to it. The Faunus went limp, Aura still crackling from him; he was unconscious, but he was not gonna feel good when he got up. A guy big cat Faunus—the spotted ears were a giveaway—lunged at him with a mallet, only to be gunned down by a burst of Fire Dust. Jacob tracked the source back to Mira, who sported a very-clear laspistol and dagger.

She turned to look at Jacob and screamed, "Get up, Jacob!"

All around Jacob, the fight was raging. Vulkan had produced a spear and was spinning it in a way not unlike Pyrrha did, only the spearhead was clearly on fire if the trail it left was any indicator; Gabriel had manifested his hammer and was swinging with it at anything he could, the calculatory nature of his swings betraying his intent of crowd control. Darnath had his shield and hammer too, the Fist of Dorn smashing its way into a Faunus guy's head and leaving a headless corpse where it had been.

 _Seeing a headless corpse in RWBY's animation. Didn't expect to see that,_ Jacob said as he watched the lifeless body tumble to the floor.

Beside Darnath, Luce was swinging with her weapon; Jacob now was able to spot it as being none other than a Crozius Arcanum, the golden wings and skull flashing devilishly with each swing. A blur of pale blue flashed across his vision and pulled it along for the ride, revealing Logan shoulder-charging a Faunus girl into a wall. There was a sickening crunch as her Aura broke before Logan cried out, "Gabe, catch!" He tossed her into Angelos, who swung his hammer hard and fast enough to send her into the roof, particularly an exposed and splintered beam. The sliver of wood that suddenly grew from her stomach was a clear sign of her long-term prognosis.

Jacob stood up as another Faunus girl lunged at him with a barbed dagger. He gunned Cadia and swung.

She flew aside, her side split open by the teeth. She slammed into the wall and fell limp.

Another kill, this time on Cadia.

Jacob's world spun horribly as he observed his kill. He felt sick, but he shook his head and did his damnedest to imagine something else as he turned to survey the fight. An iguana Faunus—evident by the tail—was rushing at Titus while his back was turned.

Jacob leveled Titan and fired once, twice.

Another Aura-less goon dropped as the bullet of Lightning Dust pierced his hip, sending him to the ground in a pained heap.

Jacob looked around again. A mouse Faunus was wrestling Rey to the ground, knuckle dusters gleaming in his hand.

Again, Jacob leveled Titan without hesitation and fired. This time the bullet slammed into Aura in the man's side, knocking him over. Rey spun around and slammed her reformed mace into his stomach, the man clutching his stomach in agony before he went limp on the ground.

Jacob turned and saw the rest of the Fang goons running out the front as Logan gave a teasing chase.

One of them—also hooded and cloaked—he noticed stared back at him as he ran away.

Jacob's stomach lept up into his throat as a flash of spiky red hair and a black-handled sword peeked out from beneath the cloak. The figure dashed out the door at breakneck speeds, sprinting down an alleyway and fading into the shadows.

Jacob turned back around to assess the damage. The rest of the room was full of the dead and he hurt, with the Imperials standing over their defeated enemies.

Jacob was shaking again as he watched them, though this time he seemed less shaky than with Ruby. _Must be that I ran out of adrenaline,_ he decided. _But, still... I killed another White Fang Faunus today. Goddamnit._

He dragged himself to the rest and called out shakily, "Is everyone alright?"

A headcount revealed no significant injuries, as most of them had Auras of sizeable strength. Only Titus had taken a significant hit, and even then his Aura hadn't dropped below 80%.

Through his shuddering breaths and shaken nerves, he stuttered, "Goddamnit, goddamn them all to Hell. Another one's fucking dead because of me."

"It was in self-defense," Vulkan replied, holding his shoulder. "They went after you and you defended yourself. It's okay."

Jacob took a second through his ragged breaths to process Vulkan's words. "It was in self-defense," he said, trying to sound assured of himself. "It was in self-defense."

Suddenly, someone darted from the kitchen and began to make for the exit. Mira seemed to become an automaton, shooting just in front of them to stop their escape. "Hold it right there," she ordered, the voice of an Imperial Guardswoman burying the kindness Jacob was getting used to hearing. "Turn around slowly."

The figure turned. In the distance the sound of police sirens were steadily growing louder. It was the cloaked assailant from earlier. AS they turned, they shrugged their shoulders and discarded their cloak. She was a rodent Faunus of some kind, the long and pointed tail behind her suggesting she was a rat Faunus. Over her face she wore the usual White Fang mask, a Grimm's visage complete with red, glowing visors disguised as eyes.

In her hand was a fob.

On her chest were what looked like sticks of dynamite.

Jacob felt his face grow clammy. He dared not move.

He'd made plenty of Allahu Akbar jokes back on Earth, he supposed it was only time for karma to return the favor.

She screamed as Logan lunged at her.

 **"For the Fang!"**

 _Click!_

Searing light.

Concussive forces.

An ear-shattering _KRAKOOM!_

Jacob felt the force of the blast lift him off his feet and back ten feet into the wall. He slammed into it back-first, his Aura shattering as the concussive blast pummeled his body. Had his Aura not been there, the blast would have killed him outright.

Granted, his Aura didn't stop the blinding agony that now rippled through his torso. He collapsed to the ground in a heap, body paralyzed with pain, body too tired to let out much more than a pained moan.

He slowly righted himself against the wall, every muscle north of his feet protesting movement of any kind. He looked up to see the Imperials dusting themselves off or collecting themselves off the ground, Auras flaring as they absorbed the damage and groans of mild pain coming from a few of them. Sunlight was coming in through the now-nonexistent front wall of the restaurant, shining down on a black scorch mark where the Faunus girl had been.

Jacob felt a horrid sense of exhaustion clamor across his mind as Cain came over. "Are you alright, Jacob?"

Jacob responded with the quippiest thing he could say. "Permission to catch some winks, Commissar?"

"Denied," he said with a sigh.

Jacob's head slumped against the wall as the exhaustion exerted it's will. He remained awake as best as he could.

He still failed as unconsciousness beckoned him under.

"Damnit..."

* * *

 **Well... that was a thing.**

 **Granted, I had a different version of this planned out initially that had Jacob pass out from a concussion... _again_ , but then it started to dawn on me that he would really need to look into whether or not he was getting concussion damage from all these head wounds. So, this was option #2.**

 **So... on that note, I suppose I should wrap this up. Next chapter, we see the ramifications of this and just how everyone will react to this; will Jacob lose trust with some, will he gain trust with others, will things sketchier as more Imperials show up?**

 **All of these and more in the next few chapters. Granted, the next month or so will be busy with a 2-week trip around the West Coast, but I will be bringing along my laptop since I also have jobs to put in for, classes to sign up for and chapters to write!**

 **As always, reviews, critiques, favorites and follows, they are all helpful to the story, so please send some this way to let me know what needs to change or needs to stay the same and I hope to see you all in the next chapter. Buh-bye~!**

* * *

 **Also, as I am writing this part in bold here, it grieves me to say that John "Totalbiscuit" Bain is no longer with us. After fighting for so long, he has passed and is no longer in pain from his growing cancer, and the world is a little darker without him. I may have not agreed with him on everything, I may have been both critical and easily-swayed by him at different times in my years of knowing what gaming reviews actually entailed, but here's the greatest truth of the matter:**

 **Without him, I would have never started Warhammer 40k. The stuff that Jacob said? Really only half-truths of how I really got into Warhammer 40k, simple artistic** **licenses I made of my origin into 40k. It was really all because of him.**

 **Without his review of the _Space Marine_ game, I would have never bought; I would have never wanted to learn more about the world of The Grimdark Future; I would have never started collecting the models, I would have never played all the other games from Games Workshop, I would have never met the friends I have now or had a hobby for me and my brother to bond over, I would have never been where I am now-for better or for worse-had it not been for Mr. Bain. And I will never have the chance to say to him personally what I say now to him post-mortem.**

 **Thank you, Mr. Bain. Thank you.**


	26. The Plan Changes

**Took me forever thanks in part to hunting for a part time job, going on a two-week cross-country vacation an also getting involved in not one but _two_ Discord RPs, but I finally got it out. Unfortunately, I have no idea if this increase in time is gonna be a regular occurrence or otherwise, so be forewarned.**

 **Anyways, on with the circus.**

* * *

 **Chapter 26: The Plan Changes**

* * *

 _The plan never goes according to plan. That's just how the die rolls, man." —Robert Martinez_

* * *

The first thing he felt was not the hot concrete pavement that sweltered his legs from within his cargo pants. Nor was it the whisper of a summer breeze carrying the smells of bread, the wharf and the tiniest hint of charred wood and Dust—a smell not unlike gunpowder in all honesty. It wasn't the reverberations of feet meeting concrete around him as something was going on.

No, the first thing Jacob felt as he was suddenly yanked from unconsciousness was the feeling of being shaken like a ragdoll.

Whoever it was, they had grabbed the collar of his jacket on both sides and had hoisted him halfway upright when they started. They had enough strength that he felt like he would open his eyes to find a T. rex playing with him like a child plays with their food. His head throbbed as his neck limply waved back and forth with the rough motion, the threat of whiplash growing each second.

"...Wake up! Wake up, damn you! Wake up!"

There was a smack and his left cheek suddenly stung like Hell itself had prodded it. His brain started firing on all cylinders as the pain jumpstarted his awakening. "Ooow," he cried groggily as he cupped his stinging cheek with his hand.

"Maybe mouth-to-mouth will wake him up!"

"Nora, he's awake." Ren's voice.

"Oh."

As the sting faded Jacob tried to crack open an eye, only to meet the Sun directly. He squeezed them closed without a second thought as a new throb manifested in his forehead. He groaned again.

"Guys, he's awake," Nora cried loudly. The throb increased and Jacob clutched his head with a shaky hand.

The sound of high heels running grew louder out of his right ear.

"Oh my gods, Jacob!"

Pyrrha's voice.

He slowly pried his eyes open, the sun tearing into his pupils angrily. His reflexive blinking got slower and slower as his eyes started acclimating to the sun again. That didn't last long, however, as a shadow obscured Remnant's sun from his eyes.

Red hair tickled his cheek as Pyrrha kneeled down beside him. "Oh gods," she said, "are you alright?"

Jacob groaned again. "I've felt better. Getting slapped sure didn't help." Nora chuckled from the side.

"We heard the explosion from the theater," Jaune said as he came up beside Pyrrha, taking to a knee and staring down at Jacob. "There was fire and smoke and we thought you were—"

"Hurt or worse," Jacob finished for Jaune. "Well, needless to say," he said with a groan, "Hurt is certainly what I'm feeling right now." Jacob started to right himself, his back aching in response. It was like fire in his spine as he went from laying to sitting, all the while Jaune's hand gingerly pushing against his back to aid him.

Jacob looked around at where he was. He wasn't laying in a smoldering crater like he had initially expected to be, but rather he was on asphalt in the middle of the road. Cop cars sat around him in angled positions, their lights blazing but only one seemed to let it's siren wail off towards the far end of the street. There were some ambulances too, even what seemed to be a very advanced-looking fire truck was winding their hose back up, a blaze that Jacob hadn't been conscious for now reduced to smoke. He turned his head left and was met with the ruined restaurant splayed out before him, the whole front destroyed as if Ronan the Accuser had decided to take his anger out on a wall.

That, or a World Eater had started venting about his Primarch.

"What hurts the most," Pyrrha asked as she grabbed hold of his arm. The soft hum he had felt earlier that day began to resonate in his arm, only for Pyrrha to start looking even paler than usual. She listed to the side for a second before Jaune and Nora yanked her hands off of Jacob's arm. The hum faded.

"Gods, Pyrrha," yelled Nora, "Don't do that! Or we'll have to send _both_ of you to the hospital!"

"I'm sorry," she said as she rubbed her brow, "I thought my Aura had replenished enough for me to help."

Jacob grimaced at the notion. He remembered a lecture from Glynda months earlier in battle practice, her words echoing in his memory.

 _"Huntsman can both heal actual physical wounds or can revitalize a damaged Aura of another Huntsman,"_ she had said, _"But attempting to do both has led to more than a fair number of fatalities; it is too taxing on your own soul to do both in immediate succession, even within minutes of each other, or you could end your own life in attempting to save theirs..."_

"Oh for Christ's sake ," Jacob said, "I'd rather not be your cause of death, okay?"

A sharp jab of pain in his ribcage stopped whatever he was going to say next. He hissed sharply as the pain echoed up into his throat and down into his gut, forcing him to clutch it in reflex. He felt another hand touch his other shoulder, the hum of an Aura echoing again. Jacob turned to see Ren there, his body enwrapped in the pink glow of his Aura as he picked up the slack.

Jacob took a deep breath as he felt Ren's Aura seep into his bones. It was at this point that Jacob noticed something was different with Ren's Aura. With Pyrrha's Aura, the buzzing hum of her Aura fired off mental images of warm summer evenings, apples, laughter around a campfire, even a weird one of bittersweet celebration in there, as if victory came at a great cost. It was all too fitting for the wannabe martyr Maiden.

With Ren, however, it was different. Images of bamboo flutes and lotus blossoms dancing in a river, hot tea on a quiet morning in the spring; these were the images that his Aura _felt_ like.

A few seconds passed as the ache passed. Lacerations on his arms and legs began to either seal up outright or if too big began to scab over instead.

Ren gasped and fell backwards as the last of the wounds finished healing. "On a side note," he said through winded breaths, "thank you for not having any bones that were too broken."

Jacob blinked. "I broke something?"

Ren nodded. "a small fracture on your left rib, third from the bottom. Not too severe and the rib is still lined up to heal correctly, but I wouldn't put it under too much stress for the next few days."

Jacob nodded as he noted that today was a day for firsts: first victory in the ring, First kill with Cadia, first time getting suicide-bombed by somebody—hopefully this would the only time he would say that—and the first broken bone he had ever received.

Jaune held out his hand as he stood back up. Jacob took his hand and began to rise, only for the feeling of a dagger jabbing into his side to knock him back to his knee with a pained cry.

"Woah, woah, woah," Jaune said as he dashed to Jacob's side and grabbed hold of his shoulder. "Easy there, big guy. You broke a bone, you didn't pinch a nerve; take it slow."

With Jaune's hand still grasping his own he slowly hoisted himself back on his feet with a groan. He finally got a proper second to observe the scene around him. Cops and paramedics darted to and fro around the area, the latter carting civilians away and the former locking away what few White Fang were conscious and still uninjured.

Jacob's stomach dropped as a paramedic rolled a gurney past them, its occupant shrouded in in blood-stained white tarp, a single arm hanging limply from the side.

Out of the corner of his vision he saw Nora hug closer into Ren as the macabre image passed them.

"Where's Titus," he asked quietly as he looked around, seeing none of the Imperials in the immediate vicinity. "Hell, where are any of them?"

"They were being debriefed by the police around the corner," Pyrrha said, joining them on her feet as she continued to hold her forehead.

"I'll venture a wild guess and say that one of them is to thank for my current location."

Ren nodded again. "Vulkan was tending to you when we arrived."

 _I need to buy that Salamander something when I get the chance,_ Jacob thought, _or even better, make something in his honor._

"Right. You guys stay here, I''ll be right back."

Jacob moved to walk off in the direction Pyrrha had pointed in, only to feel a strong hand grip his shoulder.

"Wait," said Jaune, a tone of worry in his voice. Jacob looked back to see Jaune staring at him in concern and confusion.

"Uhh, what's up?"

"Nobody's told us anything since we got here; Vulkan, the paramedics, the police, nobody. What happened? Why did… _that_ happen?"

Jacob grimaced as he stopped and turned to JNPR. All of them stared back with worried looks. Pyrrha's was one of outreaching worry, as if she wanted to hug him but restrained herself and had opted to hug herself. Nora looked sassy, her fists on her hips, the confused look on her face betraying her impatience for answers. Both boys stood almost monolithic, their arms crossed as they watched him.

"I can't believe they wouldn't tell you, but at the same time I'm not surprised they did." Jacob sighed and looked downwards at the ground, as if ashamed. "Titus and I were meeting with Vulkan and the rest of their older friends for… uhh… for…"

Jacob hesitated as he formulated a true-but-false statement that could cover his tracks. Pyrrha seemed unaware of her uncle's true origins right now and he certainly didn't want to bring that down on any of their heads, let alone Pyrrha's.

"….for setting up some additional training," he said after a minute of hesitating. He masked it in embarrassed worry, as if what he was saying was potentially offensive to Pyrrha in particular. "I knew that Professor Cain was well practiced in chainswordsmanship and your uncle was giving him a baseline on what I need to improve on."

A tense silence held over the din of sirens and emergency workers as JNPR processed his excuse.

"While I think that would be a good thing for you to look into," Pyrrha said, "that still doesn't answer our question: what happened?"

"The White Fang happened," sounded off a voice thick with a Scottish accent. Jacob wheeled on the spot and was met with the sight of Logan Grimnar approaching them. The Great Wolf was clearly exhausted, sweat pouring off his brow, his ice blue shirt—emblazoned with The Wolf That Stalks Between The Stars—wrinkled, bloodied and sporting a few visible tears. A sizeable gash in his shoulder blazed blood red, fresh but no longer bleeding.

"The White Fang!? You can't be serious," Nora cried out, grabbing her hair as if to tear it out.

"What were they after?" Jaune asked, scratching the side of his head.

Logan only glanced at Jacob.

Jacob nodded in agreement. "I think that my killing of the kid at the docks might have put me on their shit list," he said as he mentally buried the kid's image faster than ever before. "They're hunting me, just like… well, an animal."

JNPR looked between themselves in shock. "You think… they want to kill you," Pyrrha asked.

"They could have just been… well… doing their terrorist stuff and you just happened to be here," Jaune offered.

Jacob shook his head. "I wish. A server working here wrote a note down on my receipt telling me otherwise."

"What if it was a ruse," offered Ren, "just that she was a White Fang member who managed to single you out."

"That's a pretty convoluted idea, Ren, even for the White Fang."

"Mr. Muller killed a young boy in their ranks, even if it was ultimately in self-defense," the Great Wolf said as he patted Jacob on the shoulder. "Considering who else is working with them, I am not surprised that they would be worked up into a frenzy to partake in such a thing."

"…You mean Eliphas the Inheritor," Nora said, a disquieting and unusual hesitance to her comment.

Logan said nothing for a second, the gears visibly grinding in his mind. "Yeah," he finally said in a huff, "This does have Eliphas' signature written all over it."

They stood in silence again, the lot of them deep in thought if the looks on their faces were any indicator. Jacob watched their contemplation as realization smacked him square across the jaw. This had escalated quickly from simple robberies to Al Quaeda and ISIS-type tactics, complete with suicide bombers. The White Fang were becoming far more dangerous than had been in canon—or very well had been all along and he had simply awoken the sleeping giant.

He glanced at Pyrrha and she glanced back. Worry filled those emerald eyes of hers, tinged with relief and a great sense of bother, no doubt for their current surroundings.

 _She's in even more danger than before_ ,he thought to himself, _and she barely even knows the half of it._

"All right, all right, let's get this figured out," came a voice from behind Jacob. He turned and was met with the sight of Huntsmen and Huntresses passing under the police tape that now lined the area. Eight in total, all of them dressed in garb that looked like a mish-mash of RNJR's Volume 4 outfits and clothing out of _Mass Effect._ "Spread out and see if we can pick up a trail of some kind," said the one in front, a tall, ebony girl—well, _girl_ wasn't the right word, _woman_ was honestly more apt with her voice and build. The Huntsmen dispersed across the scene, studying the area as if they were expecting something that was glowing brightly to point them towards their target.

"Who the hell are these guys," Jacob asked no one in particular.

"Uh, Jacob," Jaune said as he walked up beside Jacob, "Those are the seniors. You've seen them plenty of times."

Jacob looked back at him, his brow up as if to ask what the Hell he was saying. About that time, something clicked in his head. Volume 1 mostly relied on black silhouettes for students who were not characters, and the same had been applicable to Jacob's vision during that time; Hell, most of the time the shadows disappeared for only a few seconds as someone else addressed him directly, like a nightmare. The first week or two of that had not been pleasant.

 _I must have seen them in passing,_ Jacob realized, _but where I saw silhouettes, they saw the original people. Now it's Volume 2 and the Silhouette People are gone._

"Hey," the Beacon senior said as she walked over to them, "You're some of the freshmen, right? you guys shouldn't be here."

Jacob sighed as he began to anticipate a metaphorical dick-measuring contest between the two parties, and Jacob had a nagging feeling that he would be the one to instigate it. He shifted on his feet and the splintered rib retorted back at the movement with enough pain to make him wince. "Yeah, well," he began through a hiss, "Considering that by all accounts I was the one they were _probably_ after, I'm sticking around until we get a bearing on everything."

She stared at him for a hot second before replying, "What makes you think that?"

Jacob grimaced as he hesitated to answer. "Clearly you didn't watch the news about the White Fang's earlier attack at the docks," he finally muttered.

Her eyes widened in revelation. She said nothing but simply nodded before looking over his shoulder at the rest of them.

Logan walked up to both of them, aligning himself astride Jacob's left side. "I'll make certain they get back to Beacon safely," he replied. "As cruel a situation as it is, your fieldwork time doesn't need us getting in the way."

The woman seemed to recognize him as a small smile crossed her visage. "Oh, Mr. Grimnar, I didn't see you there." She looked around, as if expecting someone else to appear. "I didn't expect a member of Team VLAT to be here—well, not counting Professor Ultramar or Mr. He'Stan, I mean."

Logan chuckled in bemusement, a sound that to Jacob sounded like it belonged coming out of a wolf's muzzle with its underlying growl. "Carry on, Huntsmen."

She nodded before turning her gaze back to Jacob. She seemed to size him up, a bemused smirk crossing her features. "Better late than never, rookie." She winked and turned to her team, motioning to them to move out.

They stood in silence for a few seconds as the seniors began their work.

"Hey," Nora said, "I think she kinda likes you."

"Up to debate, Nora," Jacob said with a sigh, "But that's not important. What I said earlier... well, being said, here's what _especially_ confuses me. If they were after me in the first place, why did they only just attack now? Hell, even more prevalent, how did they know we were meeting up?"

The Great Wolf scratched his chin. "Beats me," he said with a huff. "Perhaps they've been spying on us? Lord knows that some Faunus have the ears to pick up conversations a good distance away."

Jacob returned the gesture in contemplation. "Perhaps. Even then, who could it be? They'd have to be staff or students or someone working somewhere we've met up."

"The Vytal Festival could be perfect cover for them," Jaune suggested, "With all the new faces in town, White Fang members could just pose as tourists."

"They could have bugged one of our Scrolls as well," Jacob offered, putting his spy-film trivia to use. "Hijacked the feed and use it to listen in on our plans."

"Bah, what does it matter at this point," Nora said, grabbing Jacob by the shoulders. "The point is that the White Fang are after you—"

"That's still up to debate," Ren interjected.

"—and you're in danger."

Jacob rolled his eyes. "I appreciate your concern, Nora," he began, "But I generally think that this will be the last we see of them for a few weeks."

She shot him a confused eyebrow.

Just then another covered gurney rolled past them.

One carrying someone with a familiar but scarred monkey tail.

Jacob broke loose with a simple shrug. "Wait, wait, hold up," he said as he followed the paramedics tending to her. They stopped as he managed to catch up with them.

He had seen her tail, but even her face was covered by a tarp.

Jacob pulled it back off of her.

Even with Volume 2 animation, his stomach curdled at the sight.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath as he dropped back, letting it float back down over her.

"She was caught in the blast by the look of things," said one paramedic.

"…Is she gonna…"

The other paramedic gave him a look as unsure as the sun was bright.

Jacob swallowed hard and nodded. They took off without a second thought, loading her into an ambulance and speeding off before the doors to the back were even closed. He clenched clammy hands as the ambulance rounded a corner and disappeared, its wail fading into the white noise of the city.

He turned his head to see JNPR, shocked and horrified. Innocent eyes had seen what he had seen, and it only added to his guilt.

Logan grimaced and nodded. _I know this far better than you will ever know_ , it seemed to say.

Police sirens started up with a sudden blast, making everyone jump. A pair of police cars zoomed off in another direction, a radio blaring codes out their window.

Jacob only needed to point with his thumb in the direction of the thundering cop cars to make his point.

"That's why, Nora."

* * *

 _The clatter of metal, the "oomph" of a punched stomach._

 _A girl grunting as the sound of a shotgun echoes throughout the room._

 _An effeminate scream from a masculine throat._

Thrush went flying, end over end over end, screaming the whole way. He slammed headfirst into the wall of the auditorium arena, crumpling to the floor as his Aura crackled and sputtered.

 _Stay down, birdy-boy,_ she mentally cooed at the boy from CRDL, strutting over to him with the sexiest walk she could muster after such an extensive ass-kicking.

Thush began to get up, chided on by threats of having to do all of CRDL's homework at Cardin's behest. He looked up and met her eyes.

She frowned and blinked. The sudden terror in his eyes told her that she had gone red again. He cowered with his head beneath his hands, as if expecting to be struck.

"I forfeit, I forfeit," he cried, "Just please don't do that angry eyes thing again!"

Yang sighed. "Oh come on Thrush," she said with an eyeroll, "quit being such a wimp. My punches don't hurt that much."

He only groaned as she massaged her knuckles and unloaded Ember Celica. The shotgun shells of Dust clattered to the floor unceremoniously before she scooped them up and reattached them to her belt.

She turned and saw her teammates walking up to her from the bleachers. Ruby was beaming brightly, though she still clutched her stomach a bit from Jacob's final attack earlier. Weiss and Blake both held smiles of their own, pleased with watching another member of CRDL on the floor in pain for every dickish move, every childish prank they had pulled in the last few months.

"Now all that's left is Cardin himself and Team RWBY will have officially beaten Team CRDL, Huntsman-to-Huntsman," Ruby said happily. Yang couldn't help but return her baby sister's smile, the adrenal rush aiding her in the task as sweat poured out of every pore on her body. Thrush was small and agile in comparison to most others in their class, making the fight with him an interesting one. But being small didn't help when she did finally make contact; then all it made easier was the process of making a human fly without a plane.

"Whooo! Go Yang," came the excited cry of Velvet from the bleachers behind Yang. They turned to see CFVY watching them, all of them applauding her in varying ways. Coco and Yatsu gave them basic applauses as Fox golf-clapped, with Velvet cheering fervently.

A few others around the auditorium clapped as well. Yang giggled and decided to showboat a bit, leaning forwards and blowing a kiss into the crowd.

"Oh God, Yang," she heard Weiss say behind her.

Suddenly there was a massive thud from the direction of the main door into the auditorium.

"There's been an attack!"

Yang blinked once, twice as she processed what she heard. "What?"

"In the city! There's been an attack! A big one!"

The good mood in the room seemed to fade as concern and fear assumed dominance. Mutters of confusion reached her ears, Huntsmen and Huntresses reacting in the usual ways teenagers would.

Yang turned to the doorway. Redd Firubio—one of CPPR's members, a tall dark-skinned, round-faced boy with a red-and-black mohawk and a brown leather jacket—was huffing and puffing as he stumbled in, his face flushed in exhaustion.

"What do you mean," Yang heard Coco reply, the authority in her voice assuming control of the room. "What attack?! Grimm in the city? Mass criminals, what, what, man!?"

"It's the White Fang! They just blew up a place out on the Wharf!"

The dull murmur grew as concern grew into surprise and horror.

Blake stepped up beside Yang, her hands covering her mouth in shock. "What!? The Fang would never do something like that!"

"Tell that to the Harbor and Hearth out on 5th Street," he replied.

Yang felt the fire in her from the fight suddenly start to twist and churn in her heart, unsure of whether to grow in anger or shrink in terror. Her hands felt cold despite the sweat in her palms.

 _Wasn't that where Professor Ultramar and Mrs. Ultramar took Jacob for lunch?_

She turned back to her team. Ruby had her mouth dropped open in horror, silver eyes wide in shock. Weiss was mimicking the look, only her hands covered her mouth. Blake held a panicked look of her own, though she stared off into the distance towards the door.

Behind her, the crowd was getting louder as Redd continued adding details. Something about a dozen of them, a couple older Huntsmen being there too, all details Yang didn't particularly care about.

Her biggest concern was if Jacob was there or not.

"Where there any Beacon students there," she asked as she stormed up to Redd, grabbing his collar and yanking him in close. Panic and anger swirled in her veins, trying to assume dominance of one another.

"I-I don't know," he said, holding up his hands in surrender, "Cops were saying that they pulled a couple of people our age out, and I saw Professor Ultramar there with a couple other adults—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as a blur of red rose petals zoomed past them.

"Jacob was there," Ruby cried out to the rest of her team, "Come on!"

She didn't wait as she took off running, the trail of vortex-lifted rose petals following in her wake.

"Ruby, wait!" Weiss cried out, tailing after Ruby at a full out sprint.

Yang stood and looked up at the crowd as their gasps and murmurs grew louder around her. By now most of the class was deep in discussion, teams bunching up with one another as gossip began to twist and churn around them. Yang didn't listen long as she took off after her teammates, noticing out of the corner of her eye that Blake didn't even seem to budge.

She slammed through the front door of the auditorium and into the late afternoon sun. The heat was as awful as usual for this late in the season, despite the scattered remains of this morning's cloud cover. Ruby was already halfway across the courtyard and still gaining speed, the rose petals still falling from her form as her Semblance clocked in. Weiss couldn't even try to keep up if she wanted to, opting to jog at a brisk pace despite the fact that she was sporting heels. Yang broke out into a full sprint, screaming after Ruby. "Ruby, wait for us!"

They crossed the edge of the campus and were in the city before Ruby began to slow down. The rose petals began to drop in frequency as Ruby dropped out of her Semblance, though she still kept ahead of them as she broke into a full-on sprint. Yang couldn't keep up with her for long; if one thing was for certain, Ruby was far more agile and seemed practically built to maintain her speed.

It wasn't until they were half way through the Commercial District when Ruby finally stopped, hardly winded by the massive run. Yang, despite having her Aura-enhanced durability, was panting heavily as she came to a stop, her body sweating so much from exhaustion and heat she was certain that she would have collapsed much earlier.

The sound of a body hitting concrete behind her and the distinct groan she heard informed her that Weiss was already a step ahead of her.

"Oh my god," Yang heard Ruby cry out as she looked further down the street. Yang righted herself and managed to see what Ruby was reacting to.

The first thing Yang noticed was a very forlorn-looking JNPR and several members of Team VLAT; Nora and Ren hugging close together, a ragged and unkempt Mr. and Mrs. Ultramar, Jacob walking along limply with an arm around Pyrrha, Jaune walking along and rubbing his shoulder awkwardly—

Yang did a double-take before her eyes focused in on Jacob and her stomach hitched in shock. His shirt was tattered and his cargo pants seemed to be missing a pocket or two; amazingly, his open jean jacket seemed to only be a bit scorched at the absolute most, and even then, it was hardly enough to say the jacket was damaged at all. he looked singed and as exhausted as she felt, a ragged look to his face that said "I really need a drink of something." Cadia and Titan still remained hooked into his belt loosely, Cadia's chainsword form still active but fortunately deactivated—the hidden-away trigger was her first clue.

Yang felt the words leave her mouth just as she heard Ruby say the same thing. "Jacob!" Both broke out into a last-ditch sprint, closing the distance to the ragtag group. Yang stopped a few feet out, but Ruby didn't, flying into Jacob with a big, concerned hug just as Pyrrha dropped the arm she had brought up over her shoulders. The agonized groan that left Jacob told Yang more than enough.

"Jesus H. Christ, Ruby," he wheezed with the shadow of a laugh in his voice, "I leave for three hours and you act like I've been gone for a decade."

"Oh my god, are you okay?! What happened at the restaurant, were they just there or—"

"Ruby," Ren said, "I don't think he can answer you if you're hugging him hard enough to agitate his rib."

Yang did a double take. "Wait, what?"

Ruby let go of Jacob as he shrugged. "After 20 years of life, I finally broke a bone," he said with a pained chuckle. "Granted, it's a hairline fracture, but I still count it, sorta." He poked a spot along his side, just below his pec. The sharp hiss he made gave credence to his statement. "Fuck me, how does a tiny break like that hurt as much as it does?"

Ruby looked back at Yang, her worried look still begging questions. Yang decided to step up, flashing a smile that concealed her own concern. "20 and you've never broken a bone up 'til now. Jokes are there, but they might get me in trouble."

A weak but genuine chuckle seemed to rumble around the group. Sirens echoed across the city, the pattern of police sirens.

A second later Weiss walked up to the group, red in the face, panting in exhaustion. "Ruby... you dolt... can you not... sprint when I'm in heels?"

Yang smirked at that. "Here," she said, "let's not sit around in the sun. We can ask questions when we get back to campus." She walked up to Jacob's opposite side and wrapped one of his arms over her shoulder.

"Yang, please," Jacob said, "I can walk on my—GAAH! Sonuvabitch," he roared as he tried to take his arm back, doubling over. Yang caught him before he could drop any further, lowering herself down to help catch him. "Okay, maybe not," he said as he returned to his legs.

"Easy there, Macho Man," she said as she lifted his arm back over her shoulders, "This isn't an action movie; you aren't just walking that off."

The sentence seemed to rattle about in his head, his eyes darting as he processed it. With a grimace he seemed to ease into her hold, a tremendous sigh escaping him. "Let's see if Nurse Claiborne has a brace or something; Hell, some painkillers would be awesome right now."

Another chuckle around the group, but perhaps a bit weaker. Yang couldn't help but notice the police sirens were growing distant, but the ambulance sirens were growing closer. Then again, the largest hospital in Vale was a mile south of where they were at that moment.

The mood suddenly seemed to crash. "Come on, let's get you back to Beacon."

The walk back with JNPR, VLAT and Jacob was quiet, minus the sirens, of course. "Rey" came up beside the two of them, talking on occasion to Jacob in an attempt to liven his spirits.

One comment, though, made Yang's blood run cold.

"Hey, it was you or her, don't beat yourself up about it. I mean, Cadia got a... well, a... pretty clean tear."

Yang didn't need much more than a second to know what she was implying. She shifted as they walked, bringing him in closer, enough that their sides were touching. "Yeah," Yang said with a short pause, "what she said."

After a few minutes they reached the edge of the campus. The houses and stores suddenly gave way at the edge of the street, and Beacon again was laid out before them. By now, Ruby and Weiss were up with Yang and Jacob, the four of them making their way down the short and wide tile path leading to the courtyard.

"Now," Jacob said as he walked along, a tired shuffle to his gait, "I'm beginning to wonder where the flying fuck Blake is."

"She was right behind us when we left," Ruby asked hesitantly, "right?"

Yang had no answer for her. She never saw Blake start running, but then again Yang hadn't been looking behind her when Ruby took off running.

"I'm sure she... uh, had to confirm it or something," Titus offered. "Maybe she went off with Ms. Scarlatina to discuss it alone."

"I wouldn't say that, myself."

Everyone stopped at the sudden ring of a voice no one present had. Jacob barked in pain as he and Yang both jumped as Sun flipped in from the treeline, wearing a disappointed and forlorn frown.

"Jesus Tapdancing _Fuck_ ," Jacob swore, "scaring a person fighting a broken bone probably isn't a good fucking idea, Wukong. Anyway, what the hell do you mean?"

Sun only pointed back behind him. Both Jacob and Yang leaned over to see what he was pointing at.

Twenty yards away, Blake was leaning into the trunk of one of the trees lining the pathway. Her gaze was downcast and she seemed to be hunched in on herself. He looked up with her big, amber eyes, meeting Yang's in particular. She seemed to perk up before she noticed Jacob hanging off her partner. The cat Faunus straightened herself and jogged to them.

"Oh my god," she said in surprise mired with worry, "are you alright?"

"Well," Jacob said, "other than a broken rib, Ren's fixed me up better than most doctors I've had; so... sorta, I guess. Then again, first ever broken bone so _—Jesus_ —emphasis on the guess."

They had shifted in the middle of his sentence, and clearly his rib hadn't liked that too much. Yang winced in unison with him, muttering a flat sorry in response.

Blake seemed quiet for a few seconds, her body tight in on itself as she surveyed him. "...Was it really the—"

"—White Fang," finished Jacob before he nodded with a deep breath on his lips. "I'm sorry, Blake. They gave us no choice."

She nodded in understanding, her arms wrapped around her torso.

Yang tried to urge him to keep on heading towards the nurse. Jacob seemed to hesitate before saying, "come on, I'll fill you in on the way."

Blake was silent for a minute as they continued walking, Sun beginning to chat up JNPR behind them. A moment of levity arose as Nora busted out laughing at something Sun said to her, sending her laugh across the courtyard with the force of a thunderclap. Yang chuckled just as Jacob let loose a chuckle of his own.

"How many were sent after you," Blake asked quietly.

Jacob seemed to process it for a bit, looking unsure as to what he would say. "I think that there were probably no more than twenty, more likely fifteen. Lightly armed, no armor—fortunately for us—and they generally seemed disorganized."

Blake seemed to process that. "It was improvised rather than planned out. When we—" she stopped to glance around out of fear, as if she would be heard by the whole campus. She began shrinking back as she saw CFVY and Neptune closing the distance from the auditorium, only to visibly relax when Velvet gave her a sad nod.

The outstretched hand and nod from Neptune was enough for Yang to piece that bit together; Neptune must have filled them in on Blake. Yang glowered at the tanned Huntsman for letting his lips loosen, but no word was exchanged between them.

"You were saying," Jacob said as the group finished their assembly.

"...when we would perform raids on Dust convoys we planned for every contingent and possibility; Adam took care of every detail, even when it was supposed to be a mission I was leading. An attack like this seems to disorganized for him."

Jacob made a pained sound that screamed hesitance. "Yeah, about that," he said as the group passed into the courtyard's outer part, "By chance would Adam be Adam _Taurus_? Spiky red hair, black trench coat, red katana, edgy enough to cut an atom down the middle just by glaring at it?"

Yang's brow rose as Blake paled, the Faunus girl's eyes growing wide. "H-how did you—no, wait... was he...?"

Jacob sighed through his nose and nodded. "He fled just before the bomb went off. I don't know if he attacked anyone, but I'm pretty certain that was him."

Blake's eyes went even wider. Yang felt a grimace across her face. "Look, we'll deal with them later," she said, "for now let's focus on fixing up your damn rib."

She punctuated the "rib" in her sentence by shifting his arm. Raising it up. A sharp hiss out through his teeth sounded her success.

"Jesus Christ, Yang," Jacob grumbled, "I didn't take you for a sadomasochist."

Yang only rolled her eyes in response. From behind them a continued murmur of conversation arose from the rest of them, Delia cheering and clearly talking about the fight in some PG way that even had Ruby laughing and smiling.

"In any case," Jacob commented as they passed the great fountain at the center of the courtyard, "I have to wonder what happens now. Has anyone heard from the professors?"

"Zip and nada out of them," Coco said as she quickened her pace to catch up with the three. "Velvet and I saw Oobleck zoom towards the Tower earlier, but that was about an hour ago."

"Port?"

She shook her head.

"Peach?"

"Haven't seen her all day."

Yang furrowed her brow as she turned and asked, "Coach Bluegrass?"

"Been at the track all day but he disappeared an hour ago," Coco replied.

"That guy's got a bark like a drill sergeant I know," Jacob mumbled. "Glad he's not a teacher for a full-on class, otherwise I'd imagine him asking me to miracle my ass up a log obstacle."

"I hear that," Yang replied, remembering the vein that regularly bulged from his left temple. "What about Glynda?"

"Saw her walk off to the Tower when Redd started talking," Coco said. "She's still up there last I heard."

They continued onwards, the questions dying down as they closed in on the hospital wing. Jacob filled in what holes were there to begin with and did what he could to describe what happened. It was evident he didn't want to talk about it judging by the pauses he took to think out another way to phrase something, and Yang couldn't blame him.

"Hey, you basically got attacked and then blown up," she said as they rounded the corner of yet another hallway, "You have no reason to give us every detail if you're, well, not up to it just yet."

"Considering the fact that Cadia got the kill this time," he grunted, "and I'm _not_ a gibbering wreck, I think I'm good for the moment to give you the whole debrief... before Ozzie wants to hear it."

Yang grimaced at that. "Well... look on the bright side."

Jacob raised a brow at her.

"You stopped a dangerous person from potentially harming more people."

He seemed to rattle Yang's words around just as they stepped through the doors into Nurse Claiborne's domain. A few Hunstmen laid about, sporting casts from broken hands or other extreme wounds that even their Auras struggled against. Even one of her old pals from Sigil, Tito Orro, was sitting around with a thick cast over his foot.

"Hey Tito," she said aloud as she passed her old fisticuffs partner, getting a wave and a smile in return. "One of these days we gotta get the old gang back together, meet some of the new crew."

"If what I hear about RWBY and JNPR's true, it's gonna be a blast," he said with a laugh. "Careful with your boyfriend there, Firecracker."

Yang laughed as they continued past him, desperately wanting to suppress the blush she could feel under her cheeks.

Jacob looked back at her. "Old friend from Sigil?"

"Yep."

Jacob was silent. "Were you two a... _thing_?"

"Sparring partners," she replied as she stifled a chuckle.

Jacob returned the smile in earnest. "I never did get a chance to hear about your old friends from Signal. Might be interesting to meet the other periphery of our little merry band of sorta-fits."

Yang laughed at that last word. "Sorta-fits? What the hell kind of term is that," she asked incredulously.

"Well, you know, we've got the fit-ins of CFVY, I'm kinda the misfit here, so we're kinda the middle ground. Sorta-fits."

Yang shook her head as she chuckled. "That's the stupidest made up word I've head in a while, and Ruby came up with 'smad' earlier this afternoon."

"It works as a word," Ruby cried out from the back of the group, earning a laugh from both Jacob and Yang.

The doors to the backroom gently swung open and a rolling table passed through, the large frame of Nurse Claiborne following behind it. "Oh my stars," she said in her thick accent, "What happened?"

Yang felt a shift in the weight on her shoulder. Jacob moved to straighten himself, only for a sharp hiss and the feeling of his arm tensing up to tell her that he had stopped. "Let's just say an encounter with the White Fang happened," Yang said with a sigh. "Ren overcharged his Aura to heal most of it, but one of his ribs is broken."

"A decent fracture too if the pain is any indicator," Jacob commented, "that, or I am an absolute puss."

"Considering the crater that they showed on the news," Claiborne replied, walking up to the the pair and starting to take Jacob's arm, "I'm amazed that's the only broken bone you got. Here," she said as she walked him over to a gurney and sat him down, "Sit here and let me get a brace."

As she walked away, Jacob cried out, "I'd like to put in a request for a painkiller or two." Yang sat down across from him as the rest of the group closed in and bunched up around the two, VLAT and JNPR up front with the rest of RWBY at Yang's side and CFVY beside VLAT.

Yang looked around at the assemblage. Everyone seemed to be in some manner of distress, from Nora's thinly-veiled façade of smiles miring her concern to the miniature supernova of panic that was Blake sitting next to Yang. The adults, however, were the exception; most of them—outside of Vulkan and Titus—seemed to conceal their emotions behind a mask of analytical stoicism, one that Yang was having an incredibly tough time cracking open.

Though, as she studied them, she couldn't help but notice that there was a... mass of sorts to their gazes, like they were even older than they already were and the managed to conceal it from most. It kinda creeped her out, in a way.

"All things considered," Jacob finally said, grabbing Yang's attention, "I'm just glad they didn't manage to gut me anyhow. I would have preferred, though, to have met them somewhere where innocents wouldn't have gotten caught in the crossfire."

"You don't always have that option," Titus said with melancholy, "And when a situation like that comes to be, your best bet it to focus on civilian lives."

Jacob nodded, almost dismissively, to Yang's concern. "That's a no-brainer, Titus," he said as he shifted back, "but my point still stands. Hell, if I had gotten lucky, I may have decapitated the Fang's leadership before it can do anything more."

"No. You wouldn't have."

Yang's attention snapped to Blake, now looking up after seemingly being lost in her head for a good solid minute. Everyone was watching her, some confused and others surprised.

"Blake," Pyrrha asked hesitantly, "what do you mean?"

"I mean that... if he had tried, he wouldn't beat Adam."

Yang's brow furrowed. "He can't be that tough," she said, leaning back and crossing her arms.

Blake only shook her head in response. "I know Adam too well," she said quietly. "He's too strong for most of us to fight; Pyrrha might stand a chance by nature of her skill, and I know how he fights, so maybe I could. The rest of you... I can't really say."

Yang's brow furrowed. "How do you figure?"

"I... I used to train with him."

Yang heard a tiny scoff come from Jacob. _"Among other things,"_ he seemed to say under his breath.

 _What's that supposed to mean?_

"When he's at his calmest, there are no holes in his form, no maneuver that can catch him off guard. In the throes of battle, though, if he gets aggressive..."

"He'd kill any of us without hesitation," Jacob commented.

No reply from Blake.

The room suddenly felt a whole lot colder. It was enough to make Yang's anger balance the temperature, the faintest glow around her visible. "That's enough," she called out firmly. "I don't know anything about this Adam guy, but he's not getting near anyone and he's not _killing_ any of us, okay? He went running off into the shadows like a rat when you were winning. He's afraid of you, so he isn't that dangerous."

Jacob grimaced. "It's the cornered dog that bites the hardest," he said gesturing to Titan, now gleaming in the sun that came through the massive windows of the hospital wing. "And even then, he didn't seem to be panicking. More like he knew what was up next and was simply getting clear like any smart person would."

There was silence for a few seconds as they let it all sink in.

"Regardless," Mr. Grimnar replied, "The police are out in force now, combing the streets to find any stragglers. I'm sure they'll find and restrain him with ease."

The grimace remained. "I wouldn't count on it," Jacob replied just as Nurse Claiborne rounded the corner, a black torso brace in hand.

"Now, normally a broken rib is going to take 6 weeks at minimum to heal for a non-Huntsman," the lone nurse of Beacon said as she lifted Jacob's arms up and yanked his shirt off, "but with an Aura boost that should reduce to perhaps two weeks."

Jacob blinked at her as if he had heard that he could walk on water. " _Two weeks_? That's all?"

"Of course," she replied, "with your Aura as warmed up as it is, no doubt about it your natural rate of healing is beyond substantial at this point. You have Ms. Nikos to thank for that, ultimately."

Yang couldn't help but mirror the smirk that he grew. "Considering that Ren is the reason I'm not coming to you cut up like a sirloin," Jacob replied with a small hiss as she wrapped his torso, "I owe JNPR a lot."

Nora leaned in over Claiborne's shoulder. "Make it a breakfast out at the Pancake Palace on 32nd Street and we'll call it even."

Yang was the first to laugh as another laugh made its way around the group, this time with at least some manner of effort in it. Even Jacob chuckled a bit as Claiborne wrapped his bare chest in the brace.

 _...Hey, he's lost a lot of that civie fat,_ she noticed as she looked him over. _He's starting to really look like a Huntsman too. Now if he could just trim his chest hair down so he doesn't look like a wildman..._

Yang blinked as she realized what she had thought. A second laugh left her throat at the absurdity just as the other laugh started to drop off, leaving her as the last one to leave the laugh. She looked around at the group to find the concern drowned out in a good laugh.

Well, all except for Blake, who still seemed lost in thought.

Yang's smile dropped. For a brief second, she hesitated on what to do before a part of her mind told her what she should try. She reached out for Blake's shoulder.

Blake shuffled a bit, as if denying Yang's hand a shoulder to comfort. Yang stopped, her hand dropping back to her side. She sighed heavily and brought her hands back up behind her head, leaning backwards into the gurney-bed behind her.

 _God, today's been fucking crazy_.

* * *

"How's everything else?"

"Vulkan, I'm fine."

"Fine, my ass."

"Gabriel—"

"He got blown up point-blank at 15% Aura! I'm amazed that he left with only a broken rib."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence there, Gabe. Really helps my mood."

"Will you both keep it down?! If the kids wake up, then this whole thing is for naught!"

Jacob sighed as he adjusted himself. "I'm more concerned if Jaune or Ren are light-sleepers... or worse, Blake."

"It's been an equally long day for them," Vulkan replied, his hand hovering delicately over Ruby's head, looking like he was trying to suppress an urge to pet her like a puppy. She let out the tiniest buzz through her nose, accompanied by a tiny exhale that made her cute as a button as she laid in the bed across from Jacob.

"Difference is that I got blown up by a suicidal asshat," Jacob said as he shifted again. Sharp pain screamed up to his shoulder blade, forcing him to grip the offending part of him gently. The only sound out of him was a small, sharp hiss.

"Ms. Rose was nearly bisected by your chainsword," Gabriel replied, leaning back into a nearby pillar along the wall. "That must have been terrifying, even for someone as stalwart as her. There's a reason chainswords are considered by the Imperium to also be weapons of terror as much as they are weapons of justice."

"You mean weapons of vengeance," Jacob commented as he tried to get off his bed slowly. Beside him slept Yang, snoring like a freight train over the body of the gurney-bed that he was supposed to be resting on; but, in truth, he hadn't been able to sleep.

Gabriel's expression was one of acceptance as he raised an open palm to Jacob and said, "Yeah, that too."

Jacob slowly brought his feet to the floor to avoid waking the guys, all of them dressed for sleep in pajamas and nightgowns and now spread out in their school-issued sleeping bags—a necessity for overnight missions and trips, according to Glynda—and fast asleep. Jacob, by contrast, was still in his sweat-soaked and damaged t-shirt and cargo pants and coudln't sleep worth a damn. After a half-hour of trying, he finally righted himself and began talking with the Imperials, whom had been staying nearby as a deterrent to any potential intrusions, be they White Fang or the worse option—reporters.

As Jacob stood up, a twinge screamed out again, though this time he was able to grin and bear it long enough to get back to his feet.

"That's probably not good for that rib," Vulkan said.

"No," Jacob replied, "but back on Terra I was enough of a couch potato that I don't wanna fall back into that routine. Rib or not, I'm getting back on my feet."

Gabriel and Vulkan glanced at one another before looking back at Jacob, their eyes sharp and focused like those of eagles.

 _This almost feels like I'm under the Inquisition's gaze,_ Jacob thought to himself with a sigh. "Let's go outside to talk; I don't want to wake the guys up."

He began walking out towards the door, the sound of the two Space Marines' footsteps echoing his own. There was a sound like someone tapping on someone else and a grunt like a wolf from behind him. A groan soon followed, heralding Logan Grimnar's entry into this.

 _Now it's getting to be an interrogation_ , Jacob lamented as the group reached the doors, where Titus, Mira and the Lysanders— _God is that a weird concept to imagine, the_ _ **family**_ _of Darnath Lysander_ —were standing guard. "Captains," Jacob groaned, "We were just gonna talk outside."

Titus nodded sagely. "You wouldn't mind if we joined you, right?"

Jacob grimaced at the silly question. "No way I could stop you if I said no anyhow, Titus. Kind of a silly question."

Mira smirked as they all exited through the swinging doors and out into the hallway. A door on the side of the hallway led into one of Beacon's gardens, though not the one by the lake where Ruby and Jaune had met. Jacob pushed into the door, though the retort from his side chastised him for the action. He hissed again.

"I really wish someone would invent Excedrin," Jacob grumbled as he pushed the door open, receiving a blast of cool air to his face as he walked out. The sun had set 2 hours ago and already the temperature had dropped substantially—maybe a side effect of the coastal winds, maybe natural Remnant fuckery he couldn't explain, he didn't know—making the night a pleasant one for a small walk.

He walked along in silence for a minute or two, listening as the crickets continued their universal nightly song. Even in the dimness of the night—granted, as dim as Volume 2 animation could get—the bright colors of birds of paradise, canna lilies and other more tropical blooms stuck out amidst the green smothered in the navy blue of night. A small pond with a waterfall stood out near the back, everything behind it concealed by trees and ferns. A pair of marble benches stood across from one another halfway down the length of the garden.

His hand brushed a bird of paradise, the bloom young and fresh if its equal height to his naval was a good estimate. He smiled and said, "My dad would have loved seeing this many birds of paradise."

"Your father had a thing for gardening," Mira asked behind him.

Jacob turned to her, still wearing a ghost of that smile. "Uh, no, not really, per say, that was my little brother and mother who were more the gardeners. But, my family and I would take trips out to the state of California every summer at the end of the school year, usually to visit this theme park resort called Disneyland for a few days. But between one or two days of twelve hours of non-stop rides and entertainment with a break to nap and swim in the afternoon, some days we _wouldn't_ go into the parks at all. Sometimes we would just wander the property, take a leisurely day before they would kill their feet the next day or two after. And one of our favorite places was the park's first hotel and its surrounding gardens; all kinds of tropical stuff that wouldn't survive back home, being so high and dry as we were. One of my dad's favorite plants that he wanted in the backyard at our house was this, a bird of paradise, since the parks grew tons of them and they were always so colorful and just... cheerful."

He shuffled as his thoughts drifted back to those simpler days. "Just before... well, just before I left there, Dad had been talking about buying one that had been brought in at a local greenhouse, and I had thought it was a good idea. I mean, we were making the backyard usable, so why not add some color... but I guess I might not ever see that bird of paradise. Never see it grow big and out of place in our backyard under the maple tree, never see how well it holds out in a cold snap like we always get in winter. Just... never see our little bloom of paradise."

The Imperials were silent for a while as they watched him, several of them looking at him in a sympathetic way that unnerved him. "Huh," he heard Delia mutter from the edge of the group, watching him with a stoic face and curious gaze.

He shook his head, wanting to banish the nostalgia to a better time and place for use. "Ah," he muttered, "I'm wasting our time being nostalgically melancholy. We should focus on the stuff that matters."

Mira seemed to look disappointed in the same way a mother would be. That stung worse than the grabs his rib kept giving him.

"As much as you sound like you need a bit of time to meditate on things," Gabriel said, stepping forwards with a regretful look in his eyes, "you are right. Now, with RWBY, JNPR and CFVY out-cold, now would be as good a time as any to talk."

Jacob felt the chuckle of irony leave his throat without his permission. "God, I feel like all we ever do right now is talk," he said as he began to pace. "I mean, it's good, but at the same time actions speak louder than words."

There was a loud blast of a laugh from Logan at that. "Spoken like a Space Wolf," he said with mirth.

"And yet now we need to consider what happens from here on in," Vulkan replied, walking up to Jacob and gently grabbing him by the shoulder. "The White Fang had the time and resources to perform a suicide attack in a major metropolitan area, all the while maintaining their concealment _and_ being led into this by their direct leader... well, this branch's leader."

Jacob grimaced. "Adam Taurus is a real damn psychopath," he said, slipping out from beneath Vulkan's grip, "but he's both a smart one and an angry one. On the one hand, he's spiteful enough to stab Blake in the waist during the attack on Beacon _on top of_ slicing Yang's arm off. On the other hand, he's charismatic or overbearing enough to get an entire splinter cell of the White Fang to work with the human criminal underground."

"And charismatic enough to galvanize them into full-blown terrorist attacks," Darnath added.

"Right, right, they went full on Muslim jihadist on us."

"Jihadist? What's that?"

Jacob swallowed hard at Delia's question. "Uh, well," he began, "let's just say that religious wars are still a thing in the 3rd Millennium. Hell, religion in general is—was, whatever—still dealing with extremists on all sides... all of them happy to ruin everyone else's day."

The Space Marines in the group made a collective 'ohhh' of understanding. "Like the flagellants and priests of the Imperial Cult," Titus suggested.

"Or the Sisters Repentia of the Chambers Militant, or even the Imperium in general in the 41st Millennium." Jacob countered. "Uh, no offense meant, of course. But yes, same principle."

"No, no, we get it," Luce replied, "trust us when we say that we've had a long time to think about the Imperium at large while living here. I couldn't go back even if I wanted to."

Jacob blinked at that. "Really?"

She nodded stoutly, as if reinforcing her convictions. Jacob stared at her for a good few seconds as he assessed the idea of the devout lady from _The Carrion Throne_ now having the inkling of a cynical view of the faith that had kept her empire ticking for ten millennia.

'Huh,' was the only word out of his mouth.

There was a chuckle from the group, deeper in tone thanks to the dirth of younger voices.

A ghost of a smile etched across Jacob's lips. "But," he continued, continuing his pacing, "back on the subject, this is not what was supposed to happen. I mean, really, it wasn't." He began wringing his hands together as his habitual nervousness crept in. "We have heard no word from Ozpin, Glynda or even Ironwood, have we?"

Gabriel shifted uncomfortably. "James is currently ordering more security from Atlas and supposedly is taking more precautions in screening Faunus coming into the city."

Jacob cringed. "I can see that making things worse, even if it is the most logical choice. Now the Faunus are gonna hide their traits or avoid it all together, or, hell, maybe swell the Fang even more so. Anything else?"

Logan cleared his throat. "Grimm are popping up far more frequently in the northern parts of Forever Fall according to the news, and they're suggesting it may be because of the spike in concern across the city."

Jacob cringed again. "Great, it's essentially my fault that we may have to deal with _even more_ Grimm when and if The Breach happens. Aren't I the best?"

"Don't beat yourself up about it," Vulkan said in a harsh but concerned voice. "You had no clue that they would pull a stunt like that, what happens from here is not your fault."

"No, no, no, but it _is_ my fault, Vulkan," Jacob rounded on the spot, his hands held wide in exasperation. "They're galvanized to extremes because I committed manslaughter in self-defense and Ozpin let me off without a trial by a jury of peers. No trial, they have no justice—rightly believed, I will say in their favor, I _should_ have gone before a trial even if I wouldn't have wanted to—so they start to take things into their own hands, and I couldn't even make something along the lines of a fucking apology to that boy's family as a means of recompense/damage control!"

Jacob dragged his hand down his face as he let the air settle from his tirade. He plopped down on one of the benches, his elbows digging into his knees as he cradled his head angrily. Not seconds later, Mira walked closer to him. "The people of Remnant are less critical of Huntsmen than you want them to be," she summarized. "I admire your desire for justice, but Huntsman trainees will sometimes have accidents while on missions, and sometimes they may have to cross a line that few others are willing to cross. But they still have those moments because Huntsmen must be prepared to make the impossible choice. That's why there is no system like you expect. Trust me, there was an... accident during one of a mission Glynda and I were on."

Jacob glanced in her direction, only to find her a foot or two away. "What happened," he asked quietly.

Mira grimaced. "Well," she began, "it was our first mission as Huntsmen, obviously. We were dispatched as part of a protection force to a group of settlers trying to form a town on the edge of Forever Fall, in range of Vytal. Everything was quiet the first few days, no different from my first tours as a Guardswoman, ironically. But five days in, we're beset by a Beowolf pack, and a big one at that. We pick them off pretty easily since they were almost all juveniles. We clear them out with relative ease, Glynda getting the ones that I missed and I got the ones far enough out for me to have earned marksmanship accolades back on Cadia. But I misjudged their numbers: I counted only 41 of them in all. There were 42."

Jacob didn't need much more to imagine what happened next.

"A boy about Ms. Rose's age was caught off guard and the last Beowolf attacked him. I went in to shoot the beast and... well, my explosive shot hit its mark dead center in its chest. But the boy... the boy was being held right at that spot. We had to evacuate him by Bullhead and they took him to a hospital, third degree burns across his entire face and torso. He survived, at first, but... but the wound was too much. He died with his parents at his side a few days later."

Jacob sat in cold, haunted silence. Mira hugged herself tightly, only for Titus to walk up and hold her arm, as if begging her to stop on her own behalf.

"I would presume what happened to me happened to you?"

Mira sighed loudly. "I had little to no reaction at first. My Guardsman training came rocketing back to me without me even summoning it. 'civilian casualties regrettable but unavoidable, focus on the mission, continue on,' so on and so forth. We left a day later after the expedition had finished setting up. Cruelest thing was that it would later be found that the settlers couldn't get a stable source of food and retreated back to Vale when one of them starved to death waiting for a supply Bullhead to reach them. Regardless, I returned to Vale with Glynda, and the whole ride back we started talking about things. She was concerned about how silent I was, how reserved I was. It hadn't even occurred to me how much my training stifled my reaction until she said that. Then the gates just slowly, ever so gently started cracking. When we finally touched down at Beacon I was a barely-concealed wreck, just all of it slowly building. It was unfortunate then that Ozpin was there to personally meet us. To be honest, I unconsciously expected to either receive a lashing or a summary execution for what happened."

Jacob shifted as he listened to her. "Well," he asked hesitantly, "what happened? I mean, besides the obvious."

Mira chuckled. "I expected to finally break. I would be a disgrace of a Huntsman, a disgrace to Cadia and a disgrace to The Emperor, all in front of the man who was training me to go beyond what a Guardsman can do. And I did; I broke down in front of him, crying pathetically in front of the Headmaster of Beacon."

She looked back at him, both of their sets of dark brown eyes meeting. "And you know what he did? He knelt down and hugged me, with Glynda joining him not two seconds later."

Jacob nodded in thought, imagining the scene being set out before him.

"He told me that there was nothing that would have made that situation any better, and I refused to listen at first. 'If only I had been more diligent,' I said to him, if only I had been faster, more precise, had taken the right Dust cartridge, so on so forth, but he just told me that I had done everything I could. That it was a lesson and a reality as a Huntsman."

Jacob listened, though honestly only part of it stuck with him. His mind still ran through the situation, pointing out his faults and how things had changed thus far: Tiny stuff, mostly, but there was a reason that he believed in the butterfly effect. "I know what you're getting at, ma'am. I really do, it's something that I've been told for a good long while; do the best I can and what happens from there, happens. But I still have responsibility in regards to this; They never were this fervent before, they never tried anything like this, and then a bit over a month after I commit manslaughter on a Faunus kid in their ranks, now they're suddenly willing to blow themselves up to kill a target in broad daylight."

Vulkan walked to his other side, sandwiching Jacob between the Guardswoman and the Salamander. "Don't forget who else is working with them. Considering how much you know about us, then you know that Eliphas is a Word Bearer. And even now it is well-recorded in The Imperium how impressive they were at oration."

Jacob grimaced. "Lorgar's gift to the 17th; frenzied piety mixed with the social skills to draw others in like flies drawn to honey."

"Exactly; if anything, I feel that without Eliphas, they may have garnered more hatred to be sure, but they wouldn't be this... this driven to do such things."

"Well, forgive me for breaking up this pity-party—no disrespect intended, Mr. Muller," Gabriel piped up, "but all things considered, this has Eliphas written all over it. Quite literally, amongst some of them."

Jacob looked up at the Chapter Master of the Blood Ravens, now standing across from them with his arms crossed and his face stolid as he watched them. "What do you mean, sir?"

Gabriel hesitated at first to say anything, but with a sigh starting his sentence off, he said, "The police were going through and picking up the bodies of the dead and the wounded and they asked Titus and I if we could identify attackers and civilians to recreate what went down. As we went through we found several of the White Fang members who had survived and plenty who are were dead... but there was something off about a lot of them."

"Do tell, Gabriel."

Everyone spun in place around at the sounding out of their newcomer's voice.

Ozpin, Cain, Ironwood and Glynda stood in the doorframe leading back into the hallway, each one sporting a mug or two in their hands. Cain looked exhausted, the commissar's eyes laden with dark bags underneath, though the disheveled look of Glynda's hair had Jacob wondering who was the more drained of the two. Ozpin looked the same as ever, albeit a grim demeanor seemed to blanket him. Ironwood, by contrast, was very evidently downtrodden, a tired sadness tinged with anger and frustration; at least, that's what Jacob picked up from the upturn of his brows and the beginnings of a grimace on his face.

"Ozpin," Jacob called out, returning to his feet with a burst of newfound urgency. But the massive twinge in his side stopped him from returning to his full height. The involuntary grunt from him also didn't look particularly good in his own eyes, least to say what they thought.

"Easy there, soldier," Ironwood said, stepping forwards, "You've had a long day. Honestly, you _should_ be resting."

"I couldn't sleep soundly," Jacob replied, "though having Yang laying all cozy next to me was definitely enticing."

Glynda walked over to the trio, walking right up to Jacob. She wore a worried look that would be right at home on a mother's face, making Jacob tense up a bit.

Mira stepped forwards and opened her arms wide. "Hey, Glynda."

Glynda stepped into the hug. "Glad to see you're okay, Mira. Anything broken?"

"Just my pride," the Cadian sighed. "They got the jump on us in record time for most combatants."

Glynda sighed before replying, "I just hope that those civilians at the hospital recover soon. Too many innocent people died for my taste."

"Here's to hoping that the police capture at least one of them."

Glynda nodded. She turned to Jacob, her worried look softened but did not entirely disappear. "How are you feeling, Jacob," she asked calmly.

"Uh, well, besides the pain," he commented, poking the offending rib tenderly, "Nothing else to really report. Ren covered most of the damage with his Aura and the rib doesn't seem to have broken too severely."

Glynda hummed in thought. "I'm not particularly well-versed in medical stuff, but do you mind if I have a look? Just as a frame of reference."

Jacob nodded and lifted his arm. "Sorry if I'm whiffy," he mentioned off-hand as she bent over to look at his side. She reached out and felt the rib, a ginger touch that hardly even hurt that much, even as she ran her fingers along the rib. All the while, the tiniest thrum echoed inside him, the same general feel of Ren and Pyrrha's... _Aura link_ of sorts.

This time, though, the unconscious images were strangely mixed amidst one another: _violet silk blankets, discipline and passions running wild against one another, warm nights, candles, soft skin meeting callous hands._ But then others would show up in contrast: _Heels echoing on concrete walls, long nights beneath lamplight, the smell of ink and paper as she writes out reports and files away debriefings._ so on and so forth they seemed to run together in a conflicting but harmonious cacophony.

Jacob found himself staring at the professor, watching her every move. _She's a bottle of emotions wanting to let loose,_ he assumed. _At least she has a good grasp of it._

"...but considering the circumstances," he heard Ironwood say, the general now speaking to the Astartes, "I'd say that we should call an informal meeting in regards to this crisis."

"As much as I hate having to declare these, I agree," Ozpin replied.

The sharp grab Jacob spotted Glynda standing back up out of the corner of his eye. "Well, it feels like that break wasn't too severe, at least by now. How long did Claiborne say she figured it would take to heal that?"

"She said about two weeks," Jacob replied, "but I sincerely doubt that."

"I would actually say that's about right," she replied, her clenched hand on her chin in a quandering pose.

Jacob was even more baffled. "But, it takes months to even a full year for a broken rib to normally fix itself. How the flying Hell is that possible?"

"In truth, with how underdeveloped your Aura is, it would probably take a few months. But, Lie's Aura healing boosted yours for a bit, to such a degree that it's cut your recovery rate down by two whole thirds, maybe even a bit more."

Jacob studied her, unsure of how to take the news. "Will that last for the whole duration?"

"Well, if it did," she said with a bit of sass to her tone, "it would only take a week or less; Basically, he gave you a small boost."

Jacob nodded. "I reiterate my comment from before: I owe him big-time in that case."

"Glynda, please," Ozpin said as he walked up to them, "Mr. Muller hasn't exactly been an Aura user long enough for him to get the general idea. It's no surprise to me that he's as confused as he is."

"Fair enough." She backed off and let Ozpin walk up to them.

Ozpin sighed. "Mr. Muller, I apologize that you would have to yet again take a life. As I understand from Ciaphas' debrief, you managed to debilitate several of them in combat and you did everything in your power to stop that attack."

 _Second verse, same as the first._ "It doesn't help that I think they were after me," Jacob said with a mutter.

Ozpin looked down at him, not with harsh eyes but with understanding eyes that spoke to a wisdom that Jacob knew was somehow beyond his physical years. "Perhaps, but it is now of public concern as well, and they will answer for these crimes against the people of Vale."

"Atlas as well," Ironwood piped up. Everyone turned to look at him as he said, "two of the people injured in the fighting were Atlesian citizens. That makes this an international incident, and unfortunately both the Atlesian and Vale Councils are requesting that action should be taken as soon as possible."

Jacob nodded grimly. "What happens now? It's almost mid-August and the Vytal Festival is less than five weeks away; They're likely to strike again, for whatever reasons they have, and I doubt they'll be as disorganized as they were this time." Jacob began pacing again, worry setting again. "Their attempt to get me was a last-minute scramble, the bomb made of junk and makeshift Dust mixtures."

Ironwood nodded. "Correct. We've already gotten analysis from the site and the Dust they used was a very volatile mix we traced back to the theft at the docks. A CR-24 magazine's volume of Dust did that much damage."

 _They would sacrifice Dust for The Breach to try to kill me? That's... concerning._ "I was worried about why they would steal as much Dust as they did, but such a small amount—wait, that is a small amount, right?"

"That same amount of Fire, Earth or Magma Dust would have created an explosion only a third that size."

Jacob stared at the general. It was Mira who replied. "How the hell did they—"

"Our analysis indicated that it was the prototype Plasma Dust in those shipments. They must have primed it to overload to get the maximum detonation strength without realizing just how destructive it was."

 _A Plasma Dust bomb... to phrase it in tabletop terms, she wanted the bomb to roll a 1 and she forced it to roll a 1._ "Who knows how much more of that they have," he gravely muttered, imagining one of the train carts for The Breach loaded to the brim with Plasma Dust.

If that thing detonated...

He moved just slightly again, only for the painful twinge to reverberate down his side. Another tiny grunt in his throat. "In other news," he said, "the rest of us have been discussing our encounter from the other night and we have reason to believe—or at least I have reason to believe—that Eliphas the Inheritor may be working with the Fang."

Ozpin watched him closely. "Are you sure about that?"

Vulkan stepped up beside Jacob. "They were galvanized enough to make a suicide run in broad daylight against us just to try killing him."

"Eliphas," Ironwood mumbled, rolling that word around in his mouth. "I though Gabriel killed him."

Gabriel growled. "Turns out he's more stubborn than any of us would have imagined. He was the one who blasted Mr. Muller those few nights ago, and I can confirm it's him by nature of his voice: I'd recognize that charismatic rasp of his anywhere."

Ironwood turned to Ozpin. "Why didn't you let me know that they encountered Eliphas?"

"A minor tangent in the long run. He is alone and they have yet to encounter anyone else from the Eightfold Path."

Jacob felt his stomach clench up. Ozpin was keeping more secrets. "With all due respect," Jacob began, "I think we should consider, as I mentioned before, the Vytal Festival. Security's gonna need to be pumped up dramatically if we're gonna keep the White Fang and the Grimm at bay."

"Exactly," Ironwood said, "which is why I have petitioned the Atlesian Council to allow me to call upon a small draft of Atlesian Huntsmen and citizens to increase security, as well as bring in more of our prototype Knight-200s."

Glynda sighed as she held her brow. "James, we can't just turn all of Vale into a military parade! That will incite even more worry and panic!"

"And if we don't do something," Irowood replied, "we risk another attack on the city and more civilian casualties! That will _most certainly_ bring the Grimm to our doorstep!"

"I have to agree with Glynda on this one," Mira replied, taking her spot next to her former teammate. "We risk becoming a target for greater Grimm hordes if we incite fear in the people."

"They will either be afraid of the potential of the armed forces being put to use or afraid of the Grimm threat," countered Darnath. "Either way the people are going to be afraid these next few weeks and no doubt leading into the Vytal Festival. I have to agree with Ironwood on this one."

"Same," said Rey, "Besides, the best offense is a good defense; if Salem and the White Fang are looking for a fight, then the increased security may force them to rethink their plans or attack prematurely, then we squash them and send them running for the hills."

"It's too risky," Logan replied, "there is a chance that they are baiting us into making everyone anxious, and then they'll break upon us like a hurricane on a beach."

Soon, a full-blown argument had broken out—well, more of a passionate debate than a malicious argument, save for between Glynda and Ironwood—with Vulkan, Jacob, Opzin and Titus watching on in various states of ire.

"I hate when this kind of thing happens," Titus muttered angrily. "I agree with Ironwood, but I can't say that Mira and Glynda aren't also right."

"This Inquisition is awful at its job sometimes," Vulkan replied with his own mutter.

"If they keep this up, they may wake up some of the others inside," Jacob hissed.

The argument kept up for a minute or two before finally someone stepped in.

 _Clack!_

Ozpin's cane came down with a sharp sound, enough to grab the attention of them all. It was enough to return quiet to the garden, leaving only the trickle of the mini-waterfall and the soft kiss of coastal winds.

"Please, everyone," Ozpin said, a calm force behind his words, "Now is not the time to bicker amongst ourselves. Something is brewing and the whole of Vale is in more danger than is has ever been in since The Great War." He paused for a second, pushing his glasses back up. "But that is no excuse for not keeping the peace; The Vytal Festival can and will quell these fears in the people, just as it has always done."

Jacob watched him closely. "What're you thinking, Oz?"

Ozpin was silent for a second. "I propose that either we maintain the course as he have, staying stalwart as we always have in the face of the Grimm," he began, only to raise a hand as Ironwood moved to interject. "But, all the while, we begin pooling our resources into finding the who, the how and the why; The 'who' in regards to 'who wants these things to happen' is a question easily answered by us, but there is also 'who is working with her?' Is it just the White Fang, is it also the entirety of the criminal underground, perhaps Eliphas alone, or is he and the entire Eighfold Path bearing down on Vale?"

Jacob and Vulkan shared a look, the grim visage of an Eight-Pointed Star lurking in the back of Jacob's mind.

"How are they procuring the necessary means and numbers to act as they have; at this point it is doubtless that the White Fang has been behind the string of Dust robberies, but how are they doing it with such efficiency? How do they have the numbers now to be able to spend manpower to incite terror attacks? How are they recruiting in that case? How does Salem plan to use the White Fang to her advantage? Muscle? Brains? A scapegoat to fuel the tension?"

Jacob felt his neck prickle unconsciously. He felt a sudden urge to look behind him.

He turned and saw a flash of yellow eyes and raven hair.

His stomach lurched. _I really hope that was Blake being snoopy._

"And why, of course, is another key question; Salem we understand why, but what about the White Fang and the Eightfold Path? Why would they be so willing to work on her behalf if they even are knowingly doing so? If they don't, then why is she playing puppet-master with them? Why blow their cover when it is clear that the worst of their plans is no doubt yet to come? Why attack in broad daylight or with something so dramatic and grandiose as a suicide bomber?"

Ozpin looked around, meeting all of their eyes with his own. Even Jacob met Ozpin's gaze with his own, both spinning the gears in their heads at full speed, granted over different matters.

"I feel like there is a second option you aren't telling us, Oz."

He sighed. "The other option would be to perform some schedule shifting; the Vytal Dance is the Wednesday after next, but I can understand some concern that it may be mired by the concern across the city. I could instead push it to the week before the Festival Tournament begins, but the rest of the student body may not be so open to the idea."

Jacob grimaced. "You're thinking it would be a good distraction for them before we go off on the semester missions," he deduced aloud.

Ozpin nodded in reply. "A night of pageantry, community and perhaps a bit of romance may be just what the doctor ordered in the wake of this crisis."

As much as Jacob felt that the extra time could be useful for preparing for the Breach, he couldn't deny the teams the Dance for much longer.

Hell, if he failed in his ultimate task... at least Pyrrha deserved a good dance before she died.

"I disagree," he said, holding back the urge to clench his fist at the previous thought. "Well, here's the thing; these kids have been looking forwards to the dance for some time. I'd be remiss if our clandestine operations ruined their night, more or less, but there is a slight compromise we could do on our part. Only move it a week later, so that way we have more time to both prepare additional security and make certain that everyone can enjoy their night. How's that for a compromise?"

The smile he received from Ozpin felt genuine enough to unconsciously return.

Ironwood was silent for a long while. "I suppose that I can step up security only slightly more so, rather than my initial plans. But I will have the security increased, that I will not back down on."

Glynda sighed. "I suppose a slight increase won't be overtly disconcerting, though I will confess that I don't like having to postpone it so much. Regardless, I do see how sound of a plan it is. Deal?"

She outstretched her hand to Ironwood, who stared at it for a second before reply, "Deal," and grabbing her hand with his mechanical hand. The two shook their hands weakly but sincerely before backing off.

Ozpin stood a little bit taller. "Excellent," he said, "I believe that is all major orders of business for this impromptu meeting of the Inquisition. In the morning I will announce that the Dance is to be postponed for one additonal week for security measures. However, I will need to consult with all of you in the coming days on a few other matters. But for now, we are adjourned."

There was a murmur of confirmation from everyone.

"Now, I believe we should all turn in for the night; it's already past 10:30 and while it is a weekend... well, some of us really should be resting and recovering from a broken rib."

"Hahaha," Jacob sardonically laughed. "In all honesty, I should be asking you where do I fit in this matter?"

"For now, nowhere," Ozpin replied. "Your wounded and right now, RWBY, JNPR and CFVY need you far more than the Inquisition does right now. No disrespect, of course."

Jacob sighed. "I owe those kids a lot," he said wistfully as Ironwood and Gabriel both walked past them, headed for the door.

"Without them, you would have been Ursa food," Ozpin replied. "And without you, well, Ms. Belladonna may have been seriously hurt by the White Fang."

"Considering her past with them," Jacob said, "I honestly don't know whether or not they _would_ have hurt her."

"Those who are branded traitors by the people they served with are often hunted down the most fervently. War another is considered such a little thing, but when the conflict comes from someone you know closely, now there is the true seed of hatred."

 _Insert quote about The Fallen or the boys on the Eisenstein here_ , Jacob thought to himself.

"Forgive me, Jacob, but it is getting late. You should probably get some rest before you work that bone into a worse break."

"Fair enough. Night, Oz."

Jacob heard no reply as he turned to the door and began walking, following close behind the now-leaving Cain. For some odd reason, that silence was almost more terrifying than him saying anything.

 _Why the hell does he give me the creeps sometimes?_

As he waked through the doorway back into the hallway, He felt a gloved hand on his shoulder. He spun his head about and made eye contact with Cain, the scruffy 5 o' clock on the commissar's face a bit distracting.

"Hey," Cain said with earnest, "I saw some of your fighting back at the restaurant. Do you have a second?"

Jacob nodded hesitantly. "Uh, sure, sir. What do you need?"

"It's not actually what I need, but what I want to offer you. While that rib isn't going to be up for combat for at least a week, some basic training I think may benefit you."

Jacob watched Cain closely. Behind the Commissar, the rest of the Remnantine Inquisition filed out slowly, probably heading for their beds to retire for the night. "Are you... offering to tutor me in chainswordsmanship?"

Cain smiled with a humored air. "I suppose it would be nice to train one-on-one for a change. And besides that, it gets me an opportunity to grease the old gears, so to speak."

Jacob couldn't help but return the smile. "When would you want to start, sir?"

Cain hummed in thought. "Tuesday evening, 7:00 sharp. I hope Ms. Nikos won't mind you skipping a night with them to train with me."

"I don't think she'll mind at all," Jacob replied, offering a hand to shake. Cain took it without hesitation, a firm grip to accent his handshake. "I'll... well, probably see you before then, but I'll see you then."

"Right. Sleep well, Mr. Muller," Cain replied as he turned and walked back out towards the courtyard.

"You too, sir," Jacob replied, biting his tongue to stop him from saying 'Commissar' instead. He turned and began to walk back into the hospital wing, a smile on his lips as h thought to himself, _Ciaphas Cain, Hero of the Imperium, is gonna tutor me in chainswordsmanship. Pinch me, I must be dreaming_.

 _Tink!_

Jacob stopped as he felt something tap against his left foot. The tiny sound of something solid on the tile floor reached his ears. He stopped dead in his tracks, his head looking down at what he might have kicked.

Even in the dim light of the guide lamps fitted into the hallways, Jacob could easily see it. It was a piece of jewelry, specifically, a stark-black crystal, thin and long like a spike. If the lighting were more realistic, it probably would gleam maliciously back at him in the moonlight. Jacob moved to pick it up, biting through the wince that spawned from his rib's painful protest. He bent over and scooped it up with ease, bringing it up close.

Outside of what he could see of it at ground level, the only thing of additional note was the tiny gold string at the top, as if it had been attached to a necklace or perhaps an earring.

 _Whose is this,_ Jacob wondered to himself, studying it in an attempt to remember where'd he possibly seen it before. _Weiss has earrings, but nothing like these, at least I think. Ruby doesn't do jewelry, and neither does Yang. It fits Blake's look, but she doesn't have anything either. This isn't Pyrrha's or Nora's, and I don't think Velvet has jewelry either. That only leaves Coco, but she has little stud earrings. Maybe it's a necklace, or its..._

Something clicked in his head.

 _An ankle chain. This was on an ankle chain._

He turned and looked down the hallway, expecting to see amber eyes and raven hair staring back at him from the end. The lack of anything there scared him even more.

He pocketed the gem and hurriedly passed through the doors to the hospital wing, holding the doors and closing them slowly to keep anyone from waking up. With the doors closed, he tip-toed to the bed, maneuvering past the young Huntsmen and Huntresses sleeping around him. His heart stopped for a second when he saw Weiss stir out of fear that he had been caught. His fear vanished as she settled back into sleep beside Ruby.

A sigh through his nostrils escaped unconsciously as he slowly alighted the gurney-bed, careful so as to not disturb Yang. She was sleeping on her left side, slightly half-hazard in her positioning, her arms strung out over where Jacob was supposed to be while her right leg was kicked out slightly.

 _Glad to see I'm not the only one who rolls around in in bed,_ he thought to himself, his mind already beginning to drift into sleep. He moved her arm ever so slightly, giving him enough space to squeeze under it, all the while she slept as is mimicking the dead.

With his body now on the bed, staring up into the ceiling, he felt sleep slowly start claiming him. He glanced around, seeing the peaceful looks on _most_ of them—Jaune seemed to be struggling a bit with sleeping on the floor, or perhaps was fighting a nightmare—as they continued to sleep.

His gaze finally landed on Pyrrha, who was sleeping soundly on her side, a peaceful smile indicative of a dream on her face.

Jacob grimaced sleepily. _Sleep tight, Pyr. It's gonna be a hell of an uphill battle from here._

Sleep closed in as he looked around, simply occupying his mind as he drifted off to sleep. All the while he could feel Yang shifting, snuggling in to him.

The feeling of physical contact with his shoulder crossed his mind before he told it to shut up and let him sleep peacefully. But as he chewed his brain out for trying to think of something so base and crass, his eyes crossed over Blake. Right now, she was sleeping up against the wall a few feet away, looking like she had fallen asleep sitting up and had fallen onto her right side.

The last thing to cross his mind as he finally drifted into slumber was this:

 _Wasn't she sleeping down at the base of the gurney earlier...?_

* * *

 **Well, that was uneventful. I mean, most of it was talking and walking around. It's almost like I took a page from Volume 5...**

 **Next chapter we take a chance to see things from the Imperial point of view, Blake begins to lose sleep over the Fang, Jacob gets a crash course in Chainswordsmanship 101 from Cain, and Cinder's crew get new... _reinforcements_.**

 **As always, I appreciate any reviews, critiques, follows and favorites to this story. They are a sign that I should keep this up and they are always helpful for understanding where I may be going wrong in structure and flow of the story, as well as whether or not things are making any lick of sense.**

 **And as always, I will see you all in the next Chapter. Bye~!**


	27. The Board is Set

**Okay, after a month of juggling roleplays on Discord, doing painting commissions, now working at a local Walmart (Lord give me patience) and starting school next week, I finally got this chapter out. Unfortunately, considering all of these things now, I can't say that this story will be updated even remotely as cosntantly as it should be. I apologize in advance.**

* * *

 **Chapter 27: The Board Is Set**

* * *

 _It is essential to seek out enemy agents who have come to conduct espionage against you and to bribe them to serve you... Thus doubled agents are recruited and used. —Sun Tzu, The Art of War_

* * *

"Alright Jacob, you ready and stretched?"

"Are you sure this is _really_ a good idea?"

"Oh please, it's been two days! She cleared you for going around and doing stuff, so you're doing stuff!"

"I don't think this would be approved under normal circumstances—"

"Ah, you worry too much, it's nothing more than a lap or two around the campus. That rib isn't hurting anymore, right?"

"Well, right, sorta, it doesn't _hurt_ so much as it twinges a bit right now, but still—"

She tapped him on the side where the rib had broken. He tensed up, expecting to feel at least a small, painful twinge in his side. He felt hardly a thing, only the minor pressure and a tiny flinch in reaction. If he was honest with himself, there was no significant pain.

"See?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes in defeat. "Alright, Nora," he said, "But if Claiborne chews me out for this, I'm blaming you." He popped his neck and shook out some of the morning grogginess. Overhead came the cooing of doves and the distant honk of geese as his eyes slowly adjusted to the rising sun. The duo was shielded from the sun by the looming form of Beacon Tower, its main spire jutting high into the morning sky like a great sword. Even without a proper shadow over them—at least as far as his eyes were concerned—Jacob could feel the shadow over him.

 _More like a middle finger to Salem,_ he also considered.

"Alright then," Nora said, dressed in her workout gear from Volume 3 and in the middle of stretching her legs to the point that the audibly popped. Seeing the pink sweatband, white shirt with the pink sleeves and her symbol in the center, the pink shorts and thigh-high soccer socks, it was an odd sight in Volume 2 animation now that Jacob thought about it, purely out of the sense of having not seen it in this animation before. "Two laps around the campus perimeter, not a race, a jog, just to finally start working on those lungs and that cardio of yours." As she finished that sentence she patted him squarely on his chest right where the lungs were as an emphasis on her intent.

Jacob hummed. In his opinion, only half of that statement was actually a feasible task via exercise, and unfortunately it wasn't the former half. He found himself manually breathing as he stood there beside Nora, much to his aggravation. Now he was wishing he hadn't inherited the family lung capacity, though somehow his athsma as it turned out had disappeared outright too.

"... _You have to be kidding. I've had that since I was seven years old, there is no way that it's gone."_

" _I don't know what to say, Mr. Muller. There's no buildup in your lungs of... anything, really. Granted, your lung capacity is a bit smaller than average, but still, that's all."_

" _Hey, that means your lungs aren't likely to kill you when you get older. That's gotta be nice, right?"_

" _Well, yeah, that's a medical miracle no doubt, but..._ _ **how**_ _did it happen? Asthma doesn't just disappear overnight."_

The lack of answers from them didn't matter really, considering what he had noted the day he finally looked in a mirror at himself in Volume 1 animation; it wasn't just his appearance that got a hard reboot, he deduced.

"Hey, small lungs are no excuse, Mister," she said, poking him in the nose accusingly. "The only way that's going to get better is if you keep working it _without_ your Aura."

Jacob instinctively swatted at her finger, only missing it by an inch as she pulled it back with her usual lighting speed. "I get your point, Nora," he said. "So, two laps. Shouldn't be that hard," he commented, taking note of the time on his watch. Five minutes after 7:00, and class today started at 10:00, oddly enough. Yeah, they had the time for this.

"Alright," Nora said with a massive grin, clapping and rubbing her hands together. "Ready?"

"Yep," he replied, mentally tracing his path around the campus.

"Alright, on your mark, get set... go!" Without a second to hesitate, she started to jog away, with Jacob following in hot pursuit. They followed along the basic trail of the gardens at first, shaded somewhat as the trees occasionally pocking the walkway around the perimeter offered a few shadows to hide under as the continued jogging.

Granted, not that such a thing would matter to Jacob, considering his current physiology. Even with losing even more of the body fat he had been plagued with since he was naught but a toddler snacking on junk food, he was still horribly out-of-shape in comparison to even Jaune; then again, Jaune had been a farm boy while the most Jacob had done of outdoors work was almost seven months of maybe fifteen hours a week in manual labor in the hot sun just before he was swept away to Remnant. Sure, it had been good for him, but he had little doubt that, physically, even Jaune outpaced him by a nautical mile. It was by fortune alone that during his fighting his Aura had been keeping him from keeling over of oxygen starvation; how or why he hadn't the foggiest, but he wasn't about to question it now.

Halfway through the gardens, he was already feeling a hint of the burn. _Oh for fuck's sake,_ he thought angrily, _I can't be this stupidly out of shape!_

"Work through the burn, Jacob," Nora said beside him, "you gotta push through it."

"Not as... easy as... it sounds... Nora," he responded through mild panting.

"You ever tried singing while you jog?"

"...Well, most of the songs I can think of for jogging aren't exactly... safe for children's ears, even considering my colorful vocab."

"Ha! They can't be that bad!"

 _I wouldn't say that, Nora,_ he thought in his head as he heard R. Lee Ernie roar out _"Ho Chi Minh is a son of a bitch!"_ in his head.

A raspberry was her response. "Whatever."

They continued on for several minutes without a word, passing the library, the cafeteria, the professors' quarters and even the auxiliary gym—where they noted Jaune attempting to lift what clearly weighed at least a hundred pounds give or take and was struggling to do—as the morning sun slowly climbed the azure sky to light Vale in its warm embrace. Jacob felt the slow burn in his lungs and his legs as they continued, an urge to slow down to a brisk walk climbing in his mind.

 _Come on, Jacob,_ he hissed mentally, _don't you dare let it get the better of you._

Memories of weighing two hundred pounds at age eighteen unconsciously lowered his brow into the start of a disgusted scowl. His faltering pace began to speed up, though Nora was still clearly in a better spot than he was. By now they were approaching the massive landing bay for the Academies' air transports; each landing pad around half the size of an aircraft carrier's deck if he had to make an educated guess, made of steel reinforced with Earth Dust to further strengthen its load capacity.

With the ships that were present, however, Jacob had to wonder if they were being pushed to their breaking point.

The massive transport that had heralded Atlas' arrival turned out to not be the only one. When Ironwood said that he would be bringing extra security in response to the attack a few days ago, he hadn't been kidding: Two Atlesian Skyhawks now hovered well over a hundred feet over the landing pads, their payloads of security personnel, Atlesian robots and weaponry patiently waiting to reach the tarmac below. It was like something out of the start of a war movie, where the main character would land in the F.O.B and tour the facility on the way to the arrival briefing, like that knockoff of _Dances with Wolves_ that hadaliens instead of the Sioux. As for the one vessel already on the ground, though, it was clear that they had already begun unloading troops and supplies as lines of Atlesian Knights and basic soldiery stood at attention or marched in lock-step. A few students stood about, gussied up in the trappings of Atlas Academy, some as monolithic as the soldiers and robots. It was really uncanny to the average person.

But Jacob's eye was more trained on the Atlesian Knights. If he was deducing the count of ranks and files that some of the bodies were, there were a concerning number of them. _Four, five, six rows up and... ten across, sixty in that body alone,_ he counted from one group. _There's also that marching body... three rows... five... six, no, seven?_

His focus on counting them distracted him from his controlled breathing just long enough to mess him up. He lost his pace as he ran, the burn in his legs and lungs starting to edge towards the center of his attention. He dropped back even farther.

"Oh no you don't," Nora laughed breathily, "pick up the pace, slowpoke!"

Through the fog of muscular aches, he silently thanked whatever god was listening that he had lost a solid chunk of his excess fat in the last few months, though he still fought some of it. _Need to start... building some actual fucking muscle,_ he thought to himself.

They edged past the landing pad and continued onwards for several minutes before someone made a comment. "Wow, talk about retaliatory action," Nora said with a laugh.

"I'd be more concerned if they didn't bring... that many forces for security around a city," Jacob commented absently. "All things considered... the number of men and bots that the brought are... well, maybe enough for one man every two square miles if I had to make a random, uneducated guess."

"That's... a bit excessive," she mentioned with a furrowed brow as she dropped back beside him.

"Maybe," he replied, "but considering that the White Fang just suicide bombed a little restaurant, there's no telling what else they may pull. You can't be too cautious... but Ironwood's getting pretty close to finding a threshold."

Nora hummed in thought as they continued on.

Minutes passed them by as they widened the distance between them and the sudden entourage of soldiers descending upon Vale like a convoy of wannabe angels. With the distraction gone, he returned to his paced breaths, though his legs continued to burn in response to each step. They passed the library and the additional dorms for the foreign students, closing in on the main dormitories just as the sun began to crest over Beacon Tower.

"Poor Ozpin must wish he had blinds for those massive windows on days like this," Jacob commented aloud.

"Well, it's pointing northwards," Nora commented, wiping the sweat off her brow, "maybe he tints the side windows only."

Jacob rolled his eyes _I honestly wouldn't have a clue since everything's in Miku-Miku-Dance-Vision for me,_ he thought to himself as they continued onwards. By now his feet were starting to hurt too, though his calves dwarfed that pain by a solid quantity. His breathing kept level, but he couldn't deny a rising urge to slow down that was hard to ignore. He couldn't keep up such a pace for another whole lap, and he hadn't even kept track of how long it had taken them to do one lap.

He looked down at his Timex just as the courtyard path appeared in view, putting them only a couple dozen feet from where they had started. The watch fortunately still ticking and still durable as hell considering that for all the damage he had received in his time fighting it hadn't been busted but only sported a few measly scratches on the crystal. Beneath, the crystal, however, the watch very clearly showed 7:31.

twenty-four minutes to briskly jog around the school once. Jacob audibly groaned, but whether or not that was for the speed or the remaining distance was unknown even to himself.

They crossed over the threshold and Nora cried out, "That's one lap, slowpoke! Come on, kick up your speed and suck it in! You only have one more to go!"

"Not helpful, Nora," he commented through a tired pant as he forced himself to stop. He wheezed heavily as he bent over, lungs clamoring for as much oxygen as it could. "It just took us... about 24 minutes to go... let's see, diameter of the campus is... just shy of a mile, right?"

Nora shrugged through her recovering breaths. "I think so, give or take a tenth or two. I don't really pay attention to that kind of stuff, but I think it's just shy of nine-tenths of a mile."

"Right, right, so then the circumference... the diameter times _pi,_ sobasically... two and a half miles and we ran it in twenty-four minutes—"

"Wait, I thought you said you didn't like math," she asked with a finger pointed at him.

"I don't, and I am not very good at trig or calculus... but for some reason geometry I wrapped my head around pretty easily. Maybe it's the fact it's something with a concrete subject."

Nora snorted. "Math, schmath," she said, "you did two and a half miles in twenty-one minutes. That's basically a mile every... eight minutes!"

"Uh, Nora, you figured that out with math."

"...Oh, so I did. Still, I think we should do that second lap!"

"Oh God no," Jacob replied, "my legs are already burning. I think that second lap is a bad friggin' idea."

"Come on you big baby, a little burn won't kill you!"

His brow was now pretty-well drenched in sweat, his lungs only now starting to catch up. As far as he was concerned, there was no way he could pull it off.

"Plug in some music," she suggested in a singsong tone.

Jacob couldn't have stopped the sigh even if he had wanted to. "Alright, let's see what I can do." He reached down into his pocket and produced his phone, charged and ready for the day. He pressed shuffle.

Rythmic drums responded, both snares and bass varieties. Their pattern Jacob had heard a million times before, usually lifting his spirits whether it was on his phone or while he was watching the movie it was attached to.

"Ooh, I haven't heard this one before," Nora mentioned giddily.

"Of course, how poetic... _I'll Make a Man Out of You._ Couldn't have chosen a better song if I had tried. Well... let's make the most of it."

At the sounding of Donny Osmond's singing, they began their jog again, Jacob's calves protesting very painfully against the action. Jacob was relearning the painful lesson of how it's tougher to start running again after stopping, and he was learning it thoroughly. Even to the tune of _Mulan_ 's most popular and regularly-sung musical number he couldn't deny that his body was telling him to, "cease running fucking _immediately"_ or he would have a long day ahead of him.

His response was to start singing with it.

"I'm never gonna catch my breath, say goodbye to those who knew me, why was I a fool in school for cutting gym... _"_

Nora laughed as she listened to him sing, though he couldn't tell if she was laughing at his attempts to sing or the lyrics to the song.

The chorus picked up, and Jacob couldn't help but sing along as they passed the auditorium again. Singing the chorus distracted him from the burn as they charged along.

Now Nora was embroiled in a belly laugh as she ran beside him.

"What's so funny?"

"I haven't heard you sing before," she commented, "You got the note change down, but your pitch is awful."

"Oh," he said with a breathy and annoyed huff, "and I suppose you can do better?"

She shot him a brow not unlike his own.

 _You're unsuited for... the rage of war, so pack up, go home, you're through..._

Jacob stifled his grimace. _Oh, what do you know, Don._

 _How could I... make a man... out of you~?_

Jacob huffed. "Be a man," he sang under his breath, trying to pick up the pace. "We must be swift as the coursing river—"

 _Be a man!_

"With all the force of a great typhoon—"

 _Be a man!_

"With all the strength of a raging fire—"

"Mysterious as the dark side of the moon!"

He looked over at Nora, a bit stunned that she had a good singing voice, even more prudent considering that they were both running a decent, tiring pace at this point.

"Be a man," said with a one-sided smirk.

"We must be swift as a coursing river—" she replied.

"Be a man!"

"With all the force of a great typhoon—"

"Be a man!"

Both chimed in as the chorus replied, "With all the strength of a raging fire~! Mysterious as the dark side of... _the moon!~"_

The song ended and both laughed through their labored breaths. "Son of a bitch," Jacob commented, "you caught on to the lyrics fast; almost as fast as I do normally."

"Pretty easy lyrics to pick up, even on two goes at it," she replied. "Not a bad song, but I've never heard it before; where's it from?"

Jacob's stomach clenched. "It's, uh, done by a local celebrity," he fibbed. "Was for a little animated movie."

Nora hummed in thought as they continued onwards. "Let me guess; girl tries to become a soldier in a male only army while pulling a crossdressing schtick?"

Jacob looked over at her with surprise. "How the hell did you—"

"Pretty easy to dissect from the lyrics; 'Hope he doesn't see right through me,' the emphasis on being a manly man."

"...Fair enough," he replied. _Granted, unbeknownst to you, it's about the character your boyfriend was designed after._

"Well, what else you got," she asked as they continued onwards. They had only passed four, maybe five minutes thus far on their run, and only one song had played.

"Well," he said breathlessly, "let's see." He pulled his phone out and shuffled through as he continued on, his gaze halfway between his phone and the path. Several minutes passed before he found another song he liked.

Power metal filled the air around him as Nora grinned widely. "All right, rock and roll!"

Jacob grinned as the tune of Eclipse's _Never Look Back_ followed in their wake. The lead singer began belting out his lyrics as they continued running, Jacob keeping his pace to the beat of the song. They ran onwards, the burning in Jacob's legs getting worse and worse; he dared not slow down, but it was getting awful to work through. His breathing grew more labored as they went on, his heart beating wildly in his chest and his brow soaking in sweat as the sun kept climbing and the heat kept slowly rising.

 _~And ride, ride! Ride like a hurricane~_

 _~ride, ride, never ever look back!~_

 _~Ride, ride! Ride like a bullet train~_

 _~Ride, ride, never ever look back!~_

 _~You get no second chance, so never look back!~_

"Woah, easy there, Jacob," Nora said, "You might want to slow down, you're not looking too good."

"I'm at this pace now," he replied through a tired huff, "I feel like I'm letting myself down by slowing down now."

Two more minutes passed—or at least he thought so—as they closed in on the landing pad again. His legs burned, his lungs burned, his brow was closing in on its saturation point, and his face felt increasingly flushed. He finally started slowing down, much to his ire, as Nora kept pace with him.

"Better," she said, "'Cause I'm not carrying your butt back to the infirmary for passing out. Just take it easy."

"I gotta be honest... I've... not run... this much before," he replied, his breathing having become ragged.

"You broke into damn-near a sprint, man! Maybe it was a bad idea to play that song."

Speaking of which, the song let out it's final chorus as Jacob found himself looking downwards in exhaustion; Nora was right, he was pushing too hard too quickly, and he knew it all too well.

 _~Never ever, never ever look back~_

 _~Never ever look back!~_

 _(~Oh, oooh-oh, oooh-oh-oooh!~)_

 _~No, no, don't ever walk these streets again!~_

 _You just gotta finish the song,_ he thought to himself as he heard the marching of more of the Knights—clearly the Knights if the metallic clanking of their boots were any indication, his eyes were squeezed shut at that second.

"Hey, watch out!"

He heard Nora's cry too late. His eyes opened as he saw someone in front of him, walking perpendicular to his path.

 _Fuck!_

He had no time to figure out what his exact position was as he felt his forehead collide with something, sending him to the ground. He felt his elbows skid against the concrete, making him cry out in surprise.

"Jeez, lad! What's the hurry?"

"Ow," was Jacob's only reply as his legs and arms refused to move, his body now receiving a chance to recover whether he wanted it to or not.

"Oh gods," he heard Nora said, "I resuscitated you once before, I'm not in the mood to do so again; your breath was awful..."

"I don't think there'll be a need for that, lass," replied the very obvious man he clearly collided with. "It's alright you lot, nothin' to see here, move it along you gawkin' sheep!"

There was a murmur of activity that Jacob presumed to be Atlas students around them, though truthfully, he couldn't even muster the concentration to open his eyes and get a bearing of everything around him. All he could tell was that someone was blocking the sun with their body, casting their shadow over his head.

"...My apologies sir," he said through his labored breathing, "I... was pushing myself... a bit farther... than I should have..."

"That's a good way to hurt yourself," the man replied, Jacob's mind drawing a comparison to Alexander Anderson's voice as he listened. "Here, up you go."

Jacob felt himself be yanked by his arm back onto his feet by a large and strong hand. Jacob managed the energy to look up and see just who he had bumped into.

The first thing he noted was the man's size. He was easily Jaune's height, six-foot-four or more, and was built slightly less-so than the likes of Titus the other Marines. If anything, he was built more like Yatsuhashi, strong but also a bit lithe, like he spent more time with cardio rather than bodybuilding—how ironic. Second thing he noted was the man's Caucasian complexion and his massive bloody beard; were it not for the full head of hair on his head Jacob would swear that he was looking at that new version of Kratos, albeit with an actually healthy pallor for a change. He wore a black jacket not unlike Ironwood's or Winter's, cuffs rolled up cleanly revealing a blue interior, with dark blue military fatigues and black, square-toed boots peeking out from underneath the hem of his pants. His shirt was, by contrast, a bright blue with white buttons and a hint of a silver necklace around his neck.

The man smiled widely, a fierce glint in his eye. "Granted," he said with a dark chuckle, "Nothin' wrong with that; what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and all that. Still, you should probably keep an eye on where you're headed next time, eh?"

Jacob nodded. "Fair enough, sir."

"Seriously, Jacob," Nora said, "you were the one worried about pushing yourself too far and now you're almost keeling yourself over. You're not bipolar or something, right?"

"Jacob? So, you're the one Ol' Logan was tellin' me about, eh?"

Jacob couldn't have whipped his head around faster if Superman was snapping his neck. About then Jacob spotted a pin on his collar; a metallic blue shield the same color as his shirt with concave sides and a white lightning bolt carved into the center of the shield.

 _A Storm Warden,_ Jacob figured out with an audible sigh. He nodded and replied. "You're one of Mr. Grimnar's friends?"

A dangerous glint shone in the man's eye, somehow missed by Nora; it must have been the bemused smile he still wore. "Aye, that I am." He offered his hand in a shake, a move that Jacob took in earnest. "Name's Anders Bluesruth, Huntsman for Atlas and part-time chaplain in my hometown."

 _Explains the robes,_ Jacob thought to himself, _and I doubt he's had a drift of profession if the others are any indication._ "Jacob Muller," he replied, shaking as stoutly as possible. "Wannabe Huntsman."

Anders laughed. "That's a laugh and a half if what I heard is true," he said. "And you, lass?"

Nora saluted him with a silly grin in her face. "Nora Valkyrie, Huntress in training. I'm actually from Mistral."

"Mistral, eh? Long ways from home to be trainin' as a Huntress. Family nearby?"

Jacob grimaced as Nora's face fell slightly. "No, not really," she replied in earnest. "Just me and my partner Ren, and our teammates."

The Storm Warden seemed to study her for a few brief seconds. "Interestin'. Well, apologies for gettin' in your way, Mr. Muller," he said with a devilish grin.

"The faults mine, sir," he replied with a dismissive wave. "I was being a dumb-fuck and pushing too far."

"Again, nothin' wrong with that," the former Space Marine offered. "The Creator always appreciates going above and beyond."

The double entendre was not lost on Jacob. "In our resolve we only reflect His purpose of will," he offered, rattling off the first Thought For the Day he could remember that was prudent.

The Storm Warden startled at the response before growing a wide grin. "Book of Labours Chapter 12, Verse 10. You've read the Good Book? Hah! I think you and I are going to get along pretty damn well."

Jacob grimaced again. "Well, sir, it's actually—"

"There you are, Anders," bellowed the voice of Logan, the Great Wolf's voice alive with mirth and joy as he approached them in his casual outfit. "I was wondering If the Storm Warden would ever bloody-well get here!"

The Chaplain's smile refused to die out as he turned around. "Logan!" The two closed the distance between them, looking as though they were sizing each other up for a fight. Without a second to stop, there was a massive sound of hand meeting hand in what Jacob presume was the most masculine handshake that he had seen since the opening of _Predator_ , the two chuckling with mirth before embracing one another in a colossal hug. "It's so fethin' good to see you again, you old hound!"

The two laughed again as Logan and the Storm Warden began conversing over basic pleasantries. Meanwhile, he and Nora shared a look of confusion laced with tire, Jacob's breath finally near a sense of normality. The sweat of his brow had now reached his nose and his tendons ached in response to their abuse, all the while his starved lungs still getting their fill of oxygen. His heart still pounded in his chest, though it was now down from the angry, desperate thunder he felt a few minutes ago.

"Well," Jacob said as he threw a hand up in defeat, "that was certainly something."

Nora laughed. "Odds right out of a cartoon," she commented in reply, drinking from a water bottle that Jacob had assumed materialized out of Hammerspace or wherever she hid her ammo.

"More of their friends are showing up out of the woodwork each day," Jacob said with a sigh, hiding his true meaning from her. "I know the Vytal Festival is approaching, but this is getting out of hand."

"Well," Nora said with a shrug, "you did say that Ironwood wanted to up security; Every Huntsman easily counts for at least ten normal Atlas grunts, right?"

"Something like that," Jacob replied as he watched the two former Astartes chat pleasantly before they both turned to look at him. He couldn't deny the clenching of his jaw as their attention pinpointed on him.

Anders' face seemed baffled and bemused, as if told a confusing but funny joke. "You're serious?"

"Deadly," replied Logan.

"...Then he's also—"

Logan pointed a finger at him, his eyes moving to Nora. Anders' sentence died in his throat.

Jacob swallowed and thought fast. "I think I'm actually done with our routine for today, Nora," he said, slowly hoisting himself to his feet with a groan. "We should probably head back and get ready for class."

"Uhh... Yeah, that sounds good," she said as she looked between the three of them. "Let's go."

Both began to walk past the two Astartes, Jacob noticing how the Storm Warden's gaze followed him like it was his own shadow. "Again, apologies, Chaplain," he said with a small nod. "Catch you later, Mr. Grimnar."

"Logan," the Space Wolf corrected with a smirk. "I'd say we're on a first-name basis by now, Jacob."

"Right. Catch you later, Logan." And with that, the two student Huntsmen began to walk back to the dormitories, Jacob's calves protesting with every step.

 _No one said anything about a Storm Warden Chaplain,_ Jacob thought to himself. _Just makes me wonder who else is gonna show up to... day..._

Overhead, a lone ship that was vaguely familiar in shape screamed overhead towards the landing pad, it's roaring engines and downswept wings betraying its non-Atlesian design. It had distinct dual-tails with a rudder connecting them and a pair of back-mounted engines connected to a body and cockpit not unlike an American helicopter. The whole thing was painted in a jungle green color, a stripe of tan with an even smaller dark blue stripe within it, the mounted weapons and engines remaining a dull, aged gunmetal color that he could see still gleamed in the sunlight.

Jacob turned and began to walk faster, leading Nora away with a hand on her back. They walked away from the landing pad as the Valkyrie Assault Ship came in for a landing, Jacob mentally cursing as the situation only seemed to escalate and escalate.

 _At this point, I'm expecting a Leman Russ or a Chimera to show up any minute now._

* * *

 **[ACCESSING ARCHIVAL RECORDING #10427]**

 **[SUBJECT DESIGNATION: RWBY: VOLUME 3 – EPISODE 9]**

 **[SKIP TO TIMESTAMP: 2:54:00:0]**

 **[PLAY TO: END]**

 **[BEGINNING ANALYSIS...]**

"Penny?"

The android girl shook her head. Automated process whirred to life as dust-silicate fiber optics sparked to life. Optic systems engaged at normal capacity, giving her cybernetic brain a detailed analysis of her surroundings.

"Oh, my apologies General," Penny said as she blinked and identified General Ironwood sitting across from her, staring down at a massive, barely-organized string of notices, spreadsheets, inventories and reports from the amassed Atlesian forces being set to reinforce and secure the Vytal Festival. Names, service records, Grimm and bandit kill counts, marksmanship aptitude scores, CQC proficiency, the whole nine yards were stretched out over his makeshift desk. "Is there a problem?"

Ironwood leaned back in his chair as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, Penny," he said calmly, her audio processors detecting his trademark forcefulness tempered by his patience. "I was just wondering how are the upgrades are managing. Processors having any hiccups?"

Penny ran her internal diagnostic, getting her answer after a few seconds. "Processors are running at 99.8 percent efficiency, General. Emotional response configuration is running, facial reaction analysis subroutines are at normal computing power, and... strategy modification and activation programs are running at 98% efficiency, higher than usual."

Ironwood nodded. "Excellent." He continued staring down at a particular page of reports from the City of Vale Police Department. The words 'explosive propellant' and 'fanatical fighting' typed were enough to tell Penny exactly what these reports were about.

 _Thought Process: this unit has not seen Jacob Muller in 6 days, 18 hours and 24 minutes._

 _Solution: Visit Jacob!_

Penny smiled at her assessment. Surely Ironwood wouldn't mind if she met with him; after all, he knew that Jacob knew about Penny, and the two had apparently interacted a few nights ago if the General's comments were any indication. Maybe Jacob could explain some of the other things she had processed in the time since their last meeting. Some of the footage from this _RWBY_ show, this music she had copied as she went through his data, et cetera, she was really curious about.

"Uhm, General Ironwood," she asked, never losing her smile.

"Yes, Penny," he replied with a small smile.

"With your permission, I would like to visit Mr. Muller again."

Ironwood seemed to stiffen in response. "I don't think that would be a good idea, Penny."

Penny blinked. "But... he's also a part of the Inquisition, isn't he?"

Ironwood stopped his analysis, looking up at her as a low-frequency sigh reached her audio sensors. "He is, Penny. But why is that such a concern?"

Penny unconsciously brought her arms back around her, gripping her hands together behind her back. "I... uhm... I was curious as to... what he may have to say about what happened. Professor Ozpin has been keeping the press away from the school, and I've-"

"You've wanted to check in on him. Because you see him as a friend."

Penny felt embarrassed as she sheepishly answered, "yes."

Ironwood gripped the bridge of his nose. "Penny, while I understand that you are developing normal human interactions and social skills, I don't see letting others see you just yet as a good idea."

"General," Penny replied, "I can blend in with 86% efficiency in a crowd of normal Huntsmen."

 _Hiccup!_

Penny covered her mouth in embarrassment. "I mean 84%."

Ironwood sighed. "Penny, you are the next step in the protection of the Kingdoms, the pinnacle of Atlas' research and development program. I'm sorry, but I can't sanction letting you out into the general public in such a time as this."

"But this isn't even the general public—this is a Huntsman Academy," she stated.

"And the Huntsmen here are still considered general population," he answered back. "Were you to be caught up in an encounter—"

"I am over 400% the strength of a normal Level Seven Aura-enhanced Huntsman at base power, General," she interrupted robotically, "and my synthetic Aura registers as a Level Five. Even in the event of an encounter where I was outnumbered four to one, I would easily overpower them."

"Penny—"

"And even if I was damaged beyond a repair threshold, Father has enough backup chassis and can duplicate my memory banks at their latest upload time. Considering the upgrades that he's still working on thanks to Project: Dreadn—"

"Penny, please. That's enough."

Penny stopped at his stern but calm tone. She reassessed her decision and shrunk in on herself in response. "I'm sorry, General. I went out of line."

The room was plunged into a silence only interrupted by the building's AC turning on. For a whole minute it remained like this, Penny awaiting Ironwood's disciplinary words with even more embarrassment.

"Penny," he finally said, a tired tone behind it, "I should be honest with you. It's less that you are not ready to be seen—although I do think that remains the case for the moment." He pushed back his chair and stood up, his hands clasped behind his back. He began pacing in between the chair and the large window overviewing the Professors' Quarters, his brow locked in a furrow of worry and strength. "What my concern is... is Mr. Muller in particular."

Penny didn't let her surprise be hidden behind her 'bluff protocols.' "You're... concerned about Jacob?"

Ironwood stopped and nodded. "Everything that Ozpin has told me about him thus far has me concerned. This... this twenty-year old boy is found wandering through the Emerald Forest with only a few basic weapons and no Aura, is barely able to escape and survive the Grimm of the forest, and is immediately befriended by teams RWBY and JNPR. Ozpin then decided to either let him in on the matter or somehow he was already privy to our battle to begin with, and Ozpin decides to name him a member of the Inquisition's Inner Circle on a whim and now he's seen actively consorting with several of our members in broad daylight rather than behind closed doors. He's not even that strong of a Huntsman—A Level Three Aura, only just now learning how to wield such an advanced weapon if police and Acadamy footage is any indicator, not even remotely physically fit for the task."

Ironwood turned and gazed out of the window, looking down on the other Professors as they prepared for a normal day of classes. "And to make him even more conspicuous, he isn't a registered citizen of any of the Kingdoms. He seems Valean, perhaps, but he stated to Ozpin that he was of a third-party colony somewhere...but there aren't any that are still alive or even remotely as prosperous as he indicated with some of the things he's said. There hasn't been one in over 65 years." He turned to look her dead in the eye. "Now do you understand why I don't trust him?"

Penny assessed everything she had been told, her fuzzy logic simulators clicking and whirring in response. Ironwood was onto Jacob's trail, and that put her friend in a dangerous place, as well as all of the people from this 'Imperium.' What would Ironwood do if he found out the truth?

"...I can keep an eye on him."

"Ironwood blinked. "I'm sorry?"

Penny smiled brightly at Ironwood. "He trusts me enough that he's comfortable around me. I can keep and eye on him and keep an ear out for anything that sounds suspicious. If I do, I contact you or any other Atlesian forces and we can... take him in for further questioning."

Ironwood looked at her with a glance that said "do you take me for a fool." but that look disappeared a few seconds later as his gaze rose to meet the ceiling. He hummed aloud as he held his chin, obviously pondering it.

"Well, considering that you are in every way superior to him... I suppose there is little threat from him... Alright, I'll allow it Penny, but under two conditions."

Penny simply nodded, happy that she had managed to negotiate such a situation down.

"One: I ask that you also monitor his interactions with the other members of the Inquisition; namely all members sans Ozpin, Glynda and myself."

Penny blinked in confusion, assessing his request. "You don't trust the others?"

Ironwood grimaced. "On the contrary, Penny. I would be dead had Professor Cain not saved me a few decades back, and I have always been happy to accommodate any of them if they have wished to visit Atlas for one reason or another. But..." he paused as he let out a sigh. "...but all things considered, their sudden desire to jump to both his aid and his counsel is making me uneasy."

Penny looked down as her protocol records noted his request. Technically, the two parties were working together, and Penny did have a feeling she would be working with them frequently. "Condition noted, sir. And number two?"

"Two: if anything that they say is indicative of a threat to the Kingdoms and international security, you will come right to me."

Penny suppressed a simulated gulp, her programs noting the second condition.

 **[NOTE: Indicative threats to Kingdoms to be immediately reported to Gen. Ironwood.]**

 **[CONFIRM: YES OR NO?]**

Penny read the message buzzing in her simulated skull, fighting her protocols to immediately say yes.

… _Oh, I'm sorry, General._

 **[CONFIRM: NO]**

"Of course, General."

"Good. You are free to head out." He took a seat again, picking up the police report and continuing his own analysis of the piece.

Penny nodded. "Thank you, General Ironwood, sir." She turned to leave, letting a happy smile cross her face as she closed in on the door.

"And Penny, before you go... I'm assigning you a partner. Ozpin has been suggesting that you be entered into the Vytal Tournament as a Lone Wolf, but I must confess my doubts."

Penny's eyes widened. Memory banks assessed her most likely candidate. _Ciel Soliel._

"Consider it would mean I could fight him too," she offered as she turned around to look at him, "perhaps they should only be a formality?"

Ironwood watched her closely, his eyes peering deep into her. "...Perhaps."

She nodded. "Thank you, sir." She turned again and opened the door, refusing to look back. Without a moment's hesitation she stepped through and into the hallway, closing the door behind her with a smooth and calm motion that betrayed her automaton status.

All the while, the analysis of that one clip continued on in her onboard CPU. She had finished most of the fight by now, having studied Ms. Nikos' maneuvering, stances and sword technique with a relatively-quick overview. She was fast and agile, with good defensive—at first glance—and offensive techniques by comparison to Penny's own; but she was very clearly reliant on her Semblance for defense. Her deflections were graceful but mostly very rudimentary, all of her focus being on getting in close and opening up with her melee strikes. Such speed and skill spoke highly of her training; after all, it was on public record that she was the daughter of Mistral's most prolific Huntsman, and the second-most prolific happened to be her godfather by all indication.

Penny's thoughts were quickly assimilated by said godfather. Huntsman Titus Ultramar, Mistral's Blue Warrior, husband of Miranda Nero-Ultramar, father of one... and _Space Marine?_ Granted, Penny really didn't know what it meant to be a "Space Marine". Jacob hadn't really explained much about what they were or the place they came from, only from a few vague details: Massive supersoldiers of some kind serving a galaxy-spanning empire of humans and near-humans. It was certainly quite the image to process, but there were so many vague details that she only had the faintest silhouette of the matter.

 _Does Mr. Nikos know about Mr. Ultramar? Perhaps Mrs. Nikos? No way to know for certain unless I ask them directly... that is, if they let me ask them outright._

Penny's processor picked up the distressing images of Ruby fighting a male student every so often, pulling Penny's thoughts back to the analysis every so often. By now she had walked from the door, down the 100-foot hallway, down four flights of stairs and out the door towards Beacon Tower. She had set her analysis to take its time to get the most accurate analysis and possible preventative measures in the event that they were in that so-called "fixed timeline" Jacob had mentioned.

 _Pyrrha's weapons suddenly bent in strange angles, as if crumpled by her own power. Pyrrha didn't seem to react, only for the perspective to shift directly in front of a girl with bright green hair and ebon skin._

 **[FACIAL ANALYSIS... 100% MATCH TO: EMERALD SUSTRAI]**

 **[STUDENT: HAVEN ACADEMY—FRESHMEN CLASS—ENTRY DATE:.. ERROR: CLASSIFIED BY ORDER OF HEADMASTER L. LIONHEART; ACCESS DENIED]**

Penny's brow furrowed in worry as the sigil of the Inquisition flashed over the file. "Why is her data behind that much encryption? Even General Ironwood and Headmaster Ozpin would have no access."

Meanwhile, the scene shifted again. The fight with Ruby and that boy.

 **[FACIAL ANALYSIS... 87% MATCH TO: MERCURY BLACK]**

 _That boy's in the same team as Ms. Sustrai._ Penny ventured a guess as to what she might see if she pried further.

 **[ERROR: CLASSIFIED BY ORDER OF HEADMASTER L. LIONHEART; ACCESS DENIED]**

The worry turned into a laser-focused concentration. _Identify other members of team_ , she mentally commanded her programming to begin performing.

 **[MISTRAL ACADEMY: STUDENT SEARCH INPUT...]**

 **[MATCH FOUND: TEAM CMNE (CARMINE)]**

 **[MEMBERS: 1. CINDER FALL – 2. MERCURY BLACK – 3. NEO POLIS – 4. EMERALD SUSTRAI]**

 **[ERROR: CLASSIFIED BY ORDER OF HEADMASTER L. LIONHEART; ACCESS DENIED]**

"They are very definitely the bad guys that hurt Ms. Nikos... and me."

 _The footage changed, with Pyrrha's attacks juggling Penny up and away like she was made of paper mache. The shot held on Pyrrha, smiling confidently for all of a few seconds before a look of worry crossed her face._

 _A scene cut showed the culprit: Penny was charging forward via her energy blades' blasts, leaping high into the air and coming down on Pyrrha's chest feet-first. Pyrrha bounced backwards painfully, just barely managing to vault back onto her feet in the same motion._

 _An unnecessary cut showed Pyrrha standing still, only to have Milo and Akouo yanked out of her hand by fast-moving blurs the distinct color of Penny's own energy blades. Pyrrha reached out, her hand wreathed in a black energy as Milo started flying back to her hand, only for another blade to scream past, whipping back around with an audible spin back to over Penny's back as the automaton rolled her shoulders and neck. Penny herself seemed to sport a devious but not malicious smile as she took a simple stomping step forwards, the blade being joined by another seven of them._

 _A cut to a close-up of Emerald's face, her eyes squinted and staring directly into the audience._

Penny couldn't help but blink in surprise as the footage cut back to... well, _herself, the blades multiplying so much that a single glance wasn't enough to get a good estimate of how many._

 **[ANALYZE IMAGE: COUNT OF: MK I COMBAT PLASMA BLADES]**

 **[SCANNING... COMPLETE – COUNT: 542]**

"But I don't have that many blades," Penny said aloud to herself, drawing the eye of several students around her. She was quick to pick up their presence as she offered a genuine smile and wave and replied, "Just something regarding my weapons. Sorry for the confusion."

Meanwhile the footage _changed to a pan-back on Pyrrha, whose horrified look and stumble backwards spoke of her horror. There was a cut, and Penny's blades were back to their normal count. It cut to a view from the floor behind Pyrrha, panning back as the blades only increased... and increased... till it looked like it could have blotted out the sun._

 **[ANALYZE IMAGE: COUNT OF: MK I COMBAT PLASMA BLADES]**

 **[SCANNING... COMPLETE – COUNT: INCONCLUSIVE, ESTIMATED AT 3500]**

Penny stopped in her tracks. "Three-thousand," she mouthed silently, her eyes darting as the image remained engrained in her head. "But... Then how..."

 **[ANALYSIS: HOW?]**

 **[HYPOTHESIS: EMERALD SUSTRAI HAS AN ILLUSION SEMBLANCE?]**

 **[ERROR: NO AUDIENCE MEMBERS IN VYTAL STADIUM SEEM TO SEE IT]**

 **[ADJUSTMENT: EMERALD SUSTRAI HAS A SINGLE-TARGET HALLUCINATION SEMBLANCE?]**

Penny watched on as _her own self threw the blades forward, the camera being engulfed by a sea of blades that would reduce Pyrrha to a bloody smear._ If she had an actual physical heart, it may have skipped a beat in terror.

 _Pyrrha took a single thunderous stomp forward, a ring of black energy flying out from her as she grunted in exertion. The combat blades flew backwards, all but a few disappearing as if made of smoke. Those that did remain, however, went flying backwards, stopping only by their strings... catching on Penny's own chassis._

Penny stopped in her tracks. She watched in worry as the footage unfolded.

 _A dutch tilt of Pyrrha's face as shock crossed her features. Another one of Penny, her body wreathed in the same black energy—Pyrrha's Polarity—that her blades were in. Penny let out a gasp as the camera zeroed in on her arm, watching the dust-infused mithril-alloy cables coil around them like a Taijitu. Another one wrapped around her waist region, her pelvic armor crumpling like a soda can._

 _Suddenly, darkness, but for barely a half-second as a sound like shorting electrical wires and tearing metal and cloth accompanied the appearance of Pyrrha and... torn cloth with severed metal._

Penny didn't need her advanced systems to know what had happened. She blinked, processing all of what happened as the scene played on. _Sorrowful music began to slowly swell as the camera focused on the two of them. Penny herself was contorted in an impossible way, Pyrrha standing as if she was ready to turn and sprint away from what had happened. There was a shot of Pyrrha's horror, the crowd's... strangely mild reaction, Professors Oobleck and Port's shock, Ozpin's as well. It cut to her own self, her eyes locked forwards as they entered Emergency Shutdown Mode, pupils dilating as the energy left them._

Penny couldn't help but actually _feel_ something as she mentally gazed at the image. Whatever it was, it made her want to huddle in on herself. Was this what humans called 'being cold?'

 _A view of Father as well, as well as a shot of an army of Grimm in some ruined location suddenly turning their attention in one direction._

And Penny felt honest worry as she saw _Ruby enter the scene from the side, running out and turning towards the stadium. She seemed to go limp as her eyes went wide, falling to her knees as if all the strength had left her. The single word that left Ruby's mouth was simple, but it was laced with emotion._

" _Penny..."_

At the recording of Ruby calling out her name just as she started crying, Penny was left with a burning need to find Ruby. This could not be allowed to happen; she could not let either herself of Ruby to be hurt by Ms. Fall and her team.

"...No, Nora, I just need to stop by Ozpin's office. Don't worry."

Penny's gaze snapped up as a voice reached her ears. Jacob's voice in particular. She spotted him walking beside Nora Valkyrie, both of them dressed in their usual garb. Her thermal sensors detected both of them were above normal level, with other signs of exertion. His hair seemed to be freshly-wet as well as her own, though it wasn't with sweat. Then again, he was wearing his denim jacket again.

"Not a chance, Jacob," she replied to him as Penny watched on. "Class is in about an hour!"

"It won't take long," he countered. "I just need to talk with him about what happened at the restaurant. I have some concerns I want to run by him before the Tournament gets started."

Penny noted her subroutines firing off about her objective, all the while the video remained paused on the sight of Ruby crying.

"Okay, then," she said with a dejected sigh. "I'll see you at Port's class. If you're late, I get your cookie for lunch."

"Only if Ruby doesn't take it first," he replied as the two of them headed separate ways. He was quickly beating a hasty retreat to Beacon Tower, a purpose behind his every step despite his obvious tire. It didn't escape her notice, however, that he seemed to glance around every few steps, as if expecting someone to be following him.

 _Time to follow him,_ Penny decided, not even bothering with stalking him at a distance. She did, however, remain at equal pace to him, only just staying in his blind spot.

After several minutes he arrived at the doorway to the Tower, making his way past a few groups of students socializing in its shadow. Penny made to move into the crowd, only to assess that she would only stand out more after she interjected into one of the groups. She decided only to act natural, walking up towards one of the walls and hiding against it.

Jacob was standing in front of the center elevator to Ozpin's office. He seemed to be staring straight ahead at the doors, but the slight movements of his head betrayed his suspicious glances around him. It was a tiny detail, but her behavioral processors and subroutines were able to pick up the movements easily.

They stayed that way for a solid minute, Penny's robotic condition allowing her to wait with patient ease. As she waited, she allowed the footage to continue, even though her own focus was on Jacob.

 _The footage continued, with Oobleck and Port calling to cut the footage. For some reason, the camera crews couldn't; the reason was made clear soon enough as the screens turned red and were filled with the image of a black queen chess piece._

" _This is not a tragedy. This was not an accident."_

 _Ms. Fall,_ Penny noted with a furrowed brow.

" _This is what happens when you hand over your trust, your safety, your children, to men who claim to be our guardians but are in reality nothing more than men. Our academies' headmasters wield more power than most armies, and one was audacious enough to control both."_

Her biting comment about General Ironwood only increased the furrow to her brow.

Suddenly, the doors opened, and Jacob stepped inside without a second's hesitation. He turned and almost made eye contact with Penny, the automaton girl leaning back behind the wall at just the right angle to watch him.

" _They cling to this power in the name of peace, and yet, what do we have here? One nation's attempt at a synthetic army mercilessly torn apart by another's star pupil. What need would Atlas have for a soldier disguised as an innocent little girl? I don't think the Grimm can tell the difference."_

Penny was stopped by that comment. General Ironwood had said that it was Father's initial wish to create android Huntsmen that could live among normal humans. It made perfect sense, since people didn't trust the automaton Knights nearly as much as flesh-and-blood Huntsmen, right?

Meanwhile her ocular recorders kicked on as her mind was preoccupied by the speech. Jacob seemed to be pressing something that was around waist height, mouthing words aloud as he did so. Her lip-reading systems activated, phonetically reading them out as he said them.

"...zero, seven, one, eight, one, two."

With that, the doors closed and the room was left empty but for the few people traversing up the CCT Center. Penny walked up to the door, awaiting the elevator to finish its deposit. She could feel its vibrations, small but enough to be able to count how long it took.

She knew that the trip up to the top of Beacon Tower took 46.2 seconds normally. But the moment it passed and the elevator continued onwards, Penny's brow furrowed again.

 _...70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75—_

The elevator stopped.

"Does Beacon Tower have a basement," she asked herself. She waited again, the elevator beginning again after a few seconds. As she waited, she played the rest of the video.

" _And what, I ask you, is Ozpin teaching his students? First, a dismemberment, now this? Huntsmen and Huntresses should carry themselves with honor and mercy, yet I have witnessed neither."_

Penny sat in... what did humans call it? Disgust, was it? Yes, disgust, of Ms. Fall's speech. It was clearly her fault, at least in regards to Penny's own demise. Sure, she hadn't seen the footage of this other dismemberment, perhaps it had only been an accident.

The doors opened up, bearing no one inside. Penny stepped in and glanced down where Jacob had been typing; there was a clear concealed keypad beneath one of the wall panels, one that was simply opened by a tap-and-click on the top of the panel that said "Emergency only". Penny typed in the code and was greeted with a pleasant ding as her answer, the doors closing in response.

The small lurch downwards confirmed her suspicions of there being a basement to the Tower. She activated the video again.

" _Perhaps Ozpin felt as though defeating Atlas in the tournament would help people forget his colossal failure to protect Vale when the Grimm invaded its streets. Or perhaps this was his message to the tyrannical dictator that has occupied an unsuspecting kingdom with armed forces. Honestly, I haven't the slightest clue as to who is right and who is wrong, but I know that the existence of peace is fragile, and the leaders of our kingdoms conduct their business with iron gloves. As someone who hails from Mistral, I can assure you the situation there is equally undesirable."_ _As the footage continued, Grimm began to swarm Vale, all the while Cinder had taken to a rooftop in a simple but fancy red dress, staring out over the city as the Festival continued down a dark path._

Penny found herself fidgeting as she listened to Cinder's speech. Every word of it recorded in her memory banks to study, prepared for future comparison once this crisis was attended to."

The elevator lurched to a stop, Penny's altimeter punching in a depth around one and a third the height of Beacon Tower.

" _Our kingdoms are at the brink of war, yet we, the citizens, are left in the dark. So, I ask you, when the first shots are fired, who do you think you can trust?"_

Penny stopped the footage again, starting to grow aggravated by the whole matter. Cinder Fall had clearly used this whole thing as a grandstand of some kind, some point to prove as the Invasion of Vale began. But the rest of the episodes would have to wait.

The doors opened and Penny found herself staring down a long corridor lit a cool but sickly emerald green. There was a distant glow at the far end, a bright blue and several smaller flashes of other colors that flashed in patterns as far as her enhanced optics could denote.

She took a hesitant step forwards, being met with a loud and yet muffled sound on the elaborate tiles of the floor. She stepped again, even lighter. Still a bit loud for her taste. She moved to remove her shoes and walk in only her socks down the hall. She walked for several minutes as she processed everything, taking in the details and assessing the questions she would need to ask or to find out.

 **[INQUIRY #1: WHO WAS INJURED THAT CINDER MENTIONED EARLIER?]**

 **[INQUIRY #2: WHAT DID SHE MEAN BY THE KINGDOMS BEING "ON THE BRINK OF WAR"?]**

 **[INQUIRY #3: ARE THE GRIMM GOING TO INVADE BEFORE THE PRIMARY INVASION?]**

"God damnit!"

Penny suppressed a squeak as she hugged the wall in a burst of speed. She stayed there for a few seconds, hiding in the shadows as she waited for a clear signal. Silence reigned for a few seconds before she slowly began slinking alongside the wall without scraping it up. Finally, she came to a break in the wall, leading to some manner of tangent hallway.

She peered down it and found an odd sight: Jacob was attempting to pull on what looked like a hatch in the wall, mysteriously attached to no door.

"How the Hell did Ozpin open this room," Jacob asked as he let go and took a step back. He scratched the back of his head like a cartoon monkey as he watched the door for some manner of revealing clue to this 'door.' "That had to be Malcador in there, no way it was anyone else."

"Who's Malcador," Penny said aloud, only catching her mistake just too late.

Jacob spun on the spot, drawing Titan in a defensive reflex. "Who's there!?"

"Don't shoot, Jacob," Penny said as she reached her hands up. "It's just me."

Jacob paused for a second and he visibly squinted as if he didn't believe what he was seeing. "...Penny? What the Hell are you doing down here?"

"I'm sorry," she said as she walked out from the shadows. "I wanted to see you again, and General Ironwood would only let me see you if... if I—"

"Spied on me, let me guess."

She only nodded in response.

"Go figure," Jacob said with a disgusted tone. "Now he's snooping too close to home. Is he watching right now?"

"No, no," she shook her head. "I disabled my 3rd party monitoring programs when I left our quarters. None of them can see what we're talking about."

Jacob sighed in relief as he holstered Titan in an inside jacket pocket. "Sorry," he replied, "I thought Cinder had followed me down, or one of her cronies."

"Yes," Penny replied, "from the footage I saw of her I can see her doing something so despicable as trying something like that."

"Footage?"

She nodded her head. "When I scanned your phone," she said as she pointed to the machine sticking out of his chest pocket, "I created copies of all episodes in it, as well as some of your music; that hadn't been a part of the intended information I needed or wanted. I'm sorry."

Jacob grimaced. "That's a good way for me to get caught, Penny. What's your data encryption?"

Penny smiled. "Father programmed me with a modular triple DES and backup AER system in the event the initial algorithms were too weak for the information needed."

His blank stare and silence were all she needed to know his reply: "Penny, I don't have the foggiest what any of those do, but I'm gonna presume they're military grade and that your backups are even stronger."

Penny couldn't help but let out an amused giggle. "It's strong," she said matter-of-factly.

Jacob shrugged. "Fair enough."

"So... why were you trying to open up the wall?"

Jacob seemed to sigh as he turned halfway around to look at the wall. "There's a door here that leads into some kind of sanctum or something. I wanted to take a better look at it since... well, things are starting to add up."

Penny glanced around, activating her ultraviolet scanners, her infrareds, her x-rays, her thermal cameras, the entire arsenal of optical scanners at her disposal. There was a single crevice that marked a change in the wall right beside the handle, and some manner of scanning pad was next to it. Another slot beneath carried a keypad of some form, bout other than those there was little hint of a "door" and a sanctum behind it.

She focused on the pad. "It appears to have a biometric scanner," she deduced from the hardware present in it. "I would presume it's keyed only to the Headmasters."

"Damn," Jacob hissed, "go figure. Anything else?"

"A keypad, I'm afraid."

"Maybe the keypad is a secondary piece? Maybe an alternate method for emergencies?"

"No way to be certain," she said, blinking to turn off her optic scanners. "I'm sorry, Jacob."

He grimaced as he said, "Ah, it's fine. I might ask Ozpin if he'll let me see it later, 'out of curiosity.' Besides... I came down here for something else."

Penny blinked "Oh?"

He didn't answer, turning and waling back into the main hall. He hung a left, heading in the opposite direction to the elevator. Penny only followed behind, trying to process what he meant as he closed in on the blinking lights.

"Truth be told, Penny," Jacob said slowly, almost methodically, "That room may niggle at the back of my mind—I mean, in all honesty with everything I've seen and learned so far, I can't help but wonder if the statue in there really _is_ of Malcador the Sigilite."

Penny perked up at that name. "There's that name again," she noted. "But you never explained who he was. The name 'Malcador' doesn't appear in any CCT historical databases."

She heard Jacob chuckle. "That's because he's not a Remnantine, Penny. He is—wa _s_ , I mean—an Imperial."

As a part of her mind analyzed Jacob's word for the people of Remnant, she allowed only a simple 'Oh' as her response. "Was he important?"

Jacob looked back at her. "Well... very important, actually. He wasn't alive by the 41st Millennium, but his work and his influence could be—or can be, rather, whatever—felt monumentally."

"Oh? Was he from an earlier time?"

A wry smile crossed his lips. "Try ten thousand years prior to the most recent timestamp."

Penny couldn't help but look startled by the fact. No one on Remnant had ever maintained such a legacy as to survive two millennia, let alone ten. "Wow," she said. "He must have been really important."

"Very. He was The Emperor of Mankind's confidante, his second-in-command, and ultimately the Emperor's only real friend—at least that's how it comes across. Where the Emperor was analytical and driven forwards by a single-minded goal—to conquer the Galaxy for Mankind make its own—Malcador was that spark of humanity that balanced him out and prevented him from stumbling over that "pesky thing" called human nature. But even then, he didn't listen all the time and... well... if The Emperor had listened to him more, things in their galaxy would have been a lot less grim... I think."

Penny watched as Jacob seemed to shake his head and chuckle as if a joke had been said. "Then again," he continued, "then we wouldn't have a thirty-year-old, semi-underground multimedia behemoth like Warhammer 40k then. Cruel as it is considering who we now know, I kinda have to thank the Emperor for being a stubborn jackass. Otherwise there wouldn't have been franchise or hobby for me to find when I was kinda floundering my way through life. And with that, all my new friends, both now and before... before I left."

That last sentence had been quiet and drawn into itself, as if expecting a blow from some cosmic force. As far as Penny was concerned he didn't need to go on; Enough had already been said.

They walked in silence for just shy of a minute before they finally reached the end. It was at this point that Penny noticed what those blinking lights had been attached to.

"This is who I was concerned with, Penny," he said as he finally came to a stop in front of an Atlesian Medical Stasis Pod. It wasn't even the standard hospital variety Penny had seen in Atlas Academy's files, this one was far more advanced and far bulkier by extension. Penny's systems identified cardio stabilizers, oxygen-CO2 electro-pumps, Dust-based autoimmune enhancers, the list went on and on. This was a device for someone on the brink of death, someone who was more than likely important enough for people to—for a while—cheat Death Himself.

And Penny didn't need to even look closely at the woman inside to know who it was.

 **[FACIAL ANALYSIS... 83% MATCH TO: AMBER MENDOZA]**

 **[ACCESS PUBLIC RECORDS...]**

 **[FAMILY: FATHER—EUSTANCE MENDOZA; MOTHER—AZURA MOONSTONE]**

 **[OCCUPATION: HUNTRESS, MISTRAL HUNTSMAN GUILD]**

 **[PRIORITY DATA: ACCESS]**

Again, the mark of the Inquisition appeared.

 **[ERROR: INFORMATION CLASSIFIED ON ORDER OF HEADMASTER OZPIN; ACCESS DENIED]**

Penny was starting to get tired of reading "Access Denied" every time she wanted to locate information on someone.

"I can save Pyrrha all I like," Jacob began slowly with a grim sigh, "I can save you from your grizzly fate, I can stop Yang's injuries, I can do all of that just by being a clever cheat a step ahead of Death—no superpowers, no magic shenanigans that I have direct control of, just... being in the right place with the right information. And yet... Amber still pays the final price. And there's nothing I can do, nothing I can say to stop it."

He walked closer to the pod, running his hand up the glass of the pod, tracing the edge of the heart monitor over her bandaged chest.

"...She's the Fall Maiden," Penny assessed aloud, "right?"

Jacob grimly nodded as he looked back at her, a grimace across his face. "Soon-to-be-former Fall Maiden," he commented in reply. "Her wounds are critical and they will kill her in time, but... well, she doesn't have long in this life if Fate is to be fickle." He leaned back and slowly sat down on a small ledge at the base of the pod, groaning as if he hurt slightly.

Penny, meanwhile, walked slowly up to the pod and began tracing the heartbeat monitor's pattern, her robotic nature keeping in near-perfect pace with it.

 _Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep..._

In the back of Penny's mind, processors whirred to life as some routine or another... _replaced_ the sound of a beep with a simple pair of thumps.

 _Thump-thump... thump-thump... thump-thump... thump-thump..._

 _A heartbeat,_ she realized to herself. "A normal, human heartbeat."

Something she wouldn't ever have herself.

"...It's so strange," Penny said after a long silence. "She looks like she's sleeping."

Jacob didn't answer at first. "Yeah," he said. "It's eerie, isn't it? Hell, seeing her so peaceful and yet knowing how close she is to that final damned abyss... gives me the shivers."

Penny blinked as she thought it over. She couldn't help but feel a desire to avoid looking Amber in the eyes, even if they were closed. It was almost... too prying, as if Penny was learning some personal detail that wasn't supposed to be known.

Even with her automata-mind, she knew discomfort well enough to know she was feeling it.

Penny backed away a few steps, looking over at Jacob as he stared at the pod. "I'm sorry, Jacob."

Jacob only nodded. "Yeah," he said, "I am too."

"There isn't anything we can do?"

He looked her straight in the eye, but no words left his mouth. Penny felt her emotions sink as her processors internalized and assessed his silence.

The hallway echoed with footsteps. Penny cut off her alerts as they tried to scan what were clearly her own. Meanwhile, she assessed the room and the details of it, assessing access methods, who most likely knew of this place, so on and so forth.

"We shouldn't be down here without the Imperials," she finally said after a minute.

Jacob looked up from the ground. "Huh?"

"This is the best place for us to consider what our plan is," Penny suggested. "We could meet down here, where it's safe to discuss what we can do to prepare for the Invasion, to figure out how best to minimize casualties and stifle Cinder's plans long enough to save Pyrrha and Amber, if not outright stop it."

Jacob leaned back and let out a sigh with a deep thought on its winds. "Planning quite literally right under Ozpin's nose. I don't know, feels like we're trying to rub it in his nose if we do so."

"Nobody is ever down here except for you, General Ironwood and a few others," she countered.

"And if they do find us," he fired back dejectedly, "our cover's blown and the whole thing becomes a major crapshoot. Ironwood doesn't trust me as it is, and I have no doubt that Ozpin doesn't either. If we play this right, though, we set RWBY and JNPR off on their quest and keep to the timeline, albeit with Pyrrha still alive, Yang unharmed, Ruby un-mentally-scarred, et cetera."

"Oh? Schemin' in the most secure part of the tower isn't exactly the best place for something like that."

Penny rounded on the spot before the person could rattle off their second word and brought her blades to bear, the sound of them grinding against one another as they left from her back-storage ringing like an angry bell. There was the cocking sound of a gunrack chambering a shot behind her, followed by a similar but beefier sound following it.

"Who goes there," Jacob asked coldly, in a timbre not unlike Ironwood's when he was training students.

Two men stood present in front of them, both as tall as the General and as strongly-built as most lumberjacks. One was relatively old, most likely in his early 40s if she had to guess at first glance, with long blonde hair, a broad nose and a strong jawline. The other, however, she recognized easily, relieving her of her concerns... only to see that he had unholstered his weapon.

"Jesus Christ Almighty, Logan," Jacob hissed loudly, "first Penny sneaks up on me and now you two?"

 **[FACIAL ANALYSIS... 99% MATCH TO: LOGAN GRIMNAR]**

 **[FACIAL ANALYSIS... 93% MATCH TO-]**

Penny didn't need her facial analysis systems to recognize Anders Bluesruth. "Good morning, Chaplain Bluesruth," she said with a happy but weary smile.

"Penny," he said with a cocked eyebrow, "What the devil are you doing down here with Ms. Mendoza? Hell, what's _he_ doing down here?"

"Wait a minute," Jacob commented incredularly from behind her, "You two know each other?"

"Aye," he said, his black hand cannons glinting in the green light of the room. "Let's just say Ironwood thought I might be able to teach her some tricks o' my own. But that's beside the point: Again, I ask... _What are you doing down here?"_

Mr. Grimnar reached out to Anders and brought the gun slowly down to the floor. "Ease up, you paranoid idiot," he grumbled to Anders. "But he does bring up a good point, Jacob. Ye'd best start explaining yourself."

Jacob let out a long sigh as he came into Penny's vision beside her. "I snagged Ozpin's code out of the corner of my vision and... I've been coming down here every so often to check in on Amber. I've been hoping that she might make a comeback, but in all honesty... I feel like I'm grasping at mist at this point."

"So then why do you keep coming down here?"

He looked back around his shoulder before he looked back and replied, "I've been also using it as an excuse to vent to someone about... well... everything. You can vent pretty efficiently to someone who's unconscious."

"A valid point, if not a bit concerning to the more normally-adjusted," Mr. Grimnar said with a breathy chuckle. "Considering your particular situation, I can understand that perfectly."

"Uh, Logan," Jacob said hesitantly, before he oddly seemed to clear his throat. His head seemed to tick slightly, confusing Penny slightly; did Jacob have a nervous tick of some kind?

"He's aware of _all_ of the details, Jacob," Mr. Grimnar replied. "I sent him a debrief just before he left for Atlas proper."

"Aye," said Anders. "I'm not sure of what to make of your claims, Mr. Muller. Ye say you're from Holy Terra?"

"Well, we call it Earth in my time," he replied, "but I am a Terran, yes."

"Right, right, 3rd Millennium; Logan told me that part too."

"And did he mention—"

"I told him about the Codices as well," Mr. Grimnar said, producing a book from a pack he was wearing on his back. On it was a massive man armed with a large axe held high over his head with a mane of wild brown hair and a ferocious snarl across his face. He was armored in some suit of blue-grey armor adorned with carvings of wolves and runes that reminded her of Ancient Mantlean tablets at Atlas' natural history museum At his waist seemed to be a large ornate dagger, and beside it some kind of pelt over his codpiece.

Penny leaned in and studied it closely. "...Codex: Space Wolves?"

"I didn't believe it when I heard it," Anders said with an awed tone, "but Logan showed it to me not long after he and that other girl left for the dorms. This and everythin' inside proves it to be the truth... at least in some manner. It's just that it still sounds beyond batty, even with that taken into consideration."

"Fair enough assessment, Lord Chaplain," Jacob replied.

"Still, your recital of the _Lectitio Divinitatus_ was quite surprising. Does this "Games Workshop" sell copies of it as well?"

Jacob seemed to tense up. "Actually," he said, "as much as some of us would like to see them try it, no. It's an Imperial Thought for the Day from the 5th Edition Codices and beyond."

Anders' face seemed to drop in disappointment. "Ah," he groaned, "that's a shame. The Emperor's Light getting an early head start on Chaos would do wonders for the Galaxy."

Penny frowned as she assessed that word; that wasn't the name of the holy book of Atlas' religion; nor was it the name of the book Anders preached from. "Pardon me," she interjected, "but what is the _Lectitio Divinitatus_?"

Jacob looked back at her with a stunned but impressed look. "Sure, get it on the first time you say it," he mumbled under his breath before he gave a reply. "The _Lectito—_ sorry, _**Lectitio**_ _—Divinitatus_ is the holy book of the Imperium. It was penned by the Primarch Lorgar during the Great Crusade while he was crusading about doing The Emperor's will; whereas the other Primarchs were pretty secular in their opinions about the Emperor, Lorgar was pretty fanatical about his Father, seeing him as a god incarnate rather than the evolutionary pinnacle of mankind. Of course, he didn't share that sentiment for long after Chaos got its grubby hands on him, and he penned its antithesis, _The Book of Lorgar._ The rest is history, quite literally in this case."

Penny couldn't help but feel confusion as the names and concepts he threw at her failed to find a source to draw upon. "Primarchs? Are they the generals of the Space Marines?"

Chaplain Anders laughed. "More than generals," he replied, "They are our fathers by way of our geneseeds. Without them an Astartes can't be made, and without a Primarch's genes to make them there are no geneseed. Now, granted, Lorgar's is a bastard geneseed to begin with, seeing he was the first traitor to begin with, and all of his cur Word Bearers deserve the death they'll receive in time."

Had it not been for Jacob's sailor mouth, Penny may have gasped in shock at Anders' swearing. Granted, she still felt a little bit of shock since he didn't swear when she could hear him before.

"And we won't be left out of it," Jacob commented. "Considering who we encountered a few weeks ago."

Anders gained a confused look just as Penny copied the gesture. "What do you mean," she asked.

"The night RWBY and I met with Logan and we fought off Roman," he began, "We encountered someone else working with Torchwick and by extension Ms. Cinder Fall: Eliphas the Inheritor, one of the Dark Apostles of the Word Bearers."

"What."

That deep and foreboding tone that Anders used for that singular word put Penny on edge.

"That's damned impossible. I was with Gabriel when he ran a dagger through Eliphas' heart. I saw the accursed pauldron be dragged back with him to meet us. I know _for a fact_ that Eliphas is dead."

Jacob turned to look at Anders. "Logan should have told you," he commented in confusion, "right?"

"Aye, I should have," replied Mr. Grimnar, "but I didn't. I thought it be best that we focus on the threat to the Vytal Festival before we go chasing ghosts."

Anders looked back at Logan, a visible anger across his features that her facial scanners were easily able to pick up.

"We should be hunting him down before he brings Chaos to bear," Anders said with an agitated tone. "If he is able to amass a cult following within the city limits, there's no telling what those infernal curs will try to do—"

"Alright," Jacob said firmly, "we all need to calm down. Going at one another's throats does us no favors."

"So," Anders said as he quickly reassumed his composure, "what do you suppose we do, then?"

Jacob seemed to hum and haw about that question as he paced back towards the stasis pod. He looked in at Amber with a grim air over his whole person, bringing up his hand to trace the glass.

"The White Fang and Torchwick's goons are currently based out in the remains of Mountain Glenn," he said to them after a few seconds of silence. "They've taken over the underground portion of the city and have commandeered one of the old subway trains."

This was news to Anders and Penny both, as made evident by the unified 'what' that they both let out.

"What do they plan to do with it," Penny asked, her audio receptors recording this information for later.

Jacob turned "They've attached a massive plow to the front of the train, and they're prepping it to charge down the tunnel system on a suicide charge."

Mr. Grimnar walked up to him. "And then combined with all the Dust they've been stealing from across the city..."

"Boom."

Penny's protocols kicked into action, attempting to override her consciousness to report directly to General Ironwood, despite her onboard refusal to do so.

 **[OVERRIDE COMMAND KEY: 5371249-F2-A.]**

 **[PROCESSING...]**

"That's the Breach you mentioned was at the end of Volume 2," Mr. Grimnar assessed. "They uncouple the cars and detonate the Dust, letting in the Grimm from the wild—"

"And then the train hits the end, crashes upwards into the city and gives the Grimm their opening into Vale," Jacob finished. "Technically it's supposed to be part of the Invasion of Vale at the end of Volume 3," but RWBY stumbles across it during their first mission and sets it off prematurely."

"But Cinder plays off of it anyhow."

"Yes, but if we don't address it than even more Grimm surge into the city than in the canonical timeline; more civilian casualties, more Huntsman casualties, et cetera."

"So, again, what do you suggest we do, then?"

Jacob brought his hands up on top of his head, seeming to clasp them over it like he was keeping something inside it. He let out a short, sharp sigh. "Our only sure path is to stay the course as much as we can for now. While the Dance has been postponed until the week after The Breach is supposed to happen, this gives us more time to prepare countermeasures and set up contingents. Also, this puts Cinder on a backstep when she goes to upload that virus into the CCT tower during the Dance."

Penny's eyes went wide even as Mr. Grimnar replied, "Oh? Do tell."

"With the Breach happening before the Dance, the Dance should see more security, especially at the CCT Tower, right?"

Mr. Grimnar's—Logan's—eyes brightened with a devious glint. "Right... so she has a harder time getting in and the virus can't be installed."

"She can't gain access to the CCT mainframe," Jacob confirmed as he dropped his arms, "she can't overtake the broadcast systems, she can't intercept classified information, the whole nine yards. We cut out a huge chunk of her power just by letting the new modified timeline run its course, all the while we continue to stay a step ahead, modifying plans for any additional spanners thrown in the works. And if we can stop the virus' upload, Cinder is either forced to enact the Invasion early or stay her initial course and risk losing a lot of her shock power when she starts it up."

The four of them stood in silence for a few minutes, pondering his idea. All the while, Amber's heartbeat monitor continued to sound off in the void.

There was a sound like a wheeze. Penny turned to see Anders doubled over, his hands on his knees as what sounded like a barely-contained laugh left his mouth. "That's so crazy it might just work," Anders said through his laughter. "Are you sure ye aren't one of Alpharius' kids?!"

"I'll take that as a compliment," Jacob said with a flat tone to his voice.

"So we wait and prepare to strike in the shadows," Logan deduced. "Not my preference, but considering everything thus far, I'm willing to follow through with it."

"Right then," Jacob commented as he dropped his arms. "Now, as for something else I learned when I was heading back with Nora... today's supposed to be the events of the episode _Extracurricular."_

Penny's brow furrowed as she began running through the list of episodes of _RWBY_ she had downloaded off of his phone.

 **[IDENTIFIED: RWBY VOLUME 2 — EPISODE 5]**

 **[TITLE: EXTRACURRICULAR]**

"Oh? How do you know that," Logan asked with a cocked brow.

"Because Cinder's team is joining us for Sparring class today."

Logan Grimnar let out a hum. "I presume that you'll stay the course on that one too?"

Jacob sighed. "Actually, no. This part is part of my plan to keep Pyrrha safe."

All three of them looked around at each other before Anders replied, "How does a spar keep Ms. Nikos safe?"

"Mercury battles with her today and reveals her Semblance and her combat tricks to Cinder, giving the bitch an edge when they duel atop Beacon Tower. Pyrrha relies a lot on her Semblance to keep her opponents under some manner of control, so Cinder doesn't take any metallics and fights unpredictably."

Penny looked on in confusion. "So... how do you stop her and Mercury before that happens?"

"Simple," Jacob said with a sigh as he stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles. "The class ends with Mercury and Pyrrha's fight... so someone needs to jump in and offer to fight before Mercury can. And we need to put Cinder on the back foot as it were; someone needs to make her uneasy."

"Oh no," Mr. Grimnar replied, "I know where this is going."

Jacob only smiled as the three of them slowly put two and two together.

Penny thought he was certainly becoming crazy with an idea like that.

* * *

 _CLANG!_

 _SKRRT!_

 _SCHW-SCHLING!_

Each sound was something she had heard a million times in training and in her tournaments.

 _Parry left as you attack his head, whip around and hit him with the stock, watch the legsweep, somersault and fire..._

Each movement was a muscle memory that she had remembered, strung together in advanced combinations. In all honesty, though no one knew it, she wasn't one for improvising attacks in battle.

 _She parried every attack thrown her way with an inhuman grace and ease, a bronze and scarlet dervish amidst gunmetal and dull tones._

Her Semblance made it easier for her to fight them. Granted, she was already outnumbered four to one, but she was already playing a dangerous game of . The second their blades made some manner of contact, she could feel them, as if distance tendrils of herself. But she could reach out and work them to her whims; An adjustment there, a nudge here, and even the most chaotic of fight styles could be handled by her drills and her memorized techniques.

She threw team CRDL around like boats in a hurricane, several of them going down with agonized cries of pain. On the one hand, she didn't like causing that much pain that they actively cried out in reaction to it; on the other, what they did would not be so easily forgiven.

Cardin went at her with a wild swing, forcing her to cartwheel to the side. She made note again of how close his explosive mace had gotten to her, opting to attempt knocking his feet out from under him. The sudden appearance of his mace swinging into her shield arm stopped that plan cold.

Her Semblance and Aura cried out in unison to check her flank. Out of the corner of her vision she saw Sky bringing his halberd down, hoping to cleave her Aura down her back.

Without a second to think more on it, she adjusted his swing just slightly with a tilt to the side, having the halberd take a swing at her legs instead. she jumped and spun in the air, spotting Cardin trying to smack her in midair. She blocked with her shield and hit the ground, vaulting into a breaking spin that knocked Sky's feet out from under him as Cardin brought down his fist, only for her to roll and launch back onto her feet.

 _This is the kind of challenge I needed,_ Pyrrha thought proudly in the back of her mind as she vaulted over Cardin's cleaving swing, spinning and letting her shield fly. It bounced into Cardin's head and ricocheted into Sky as she hit the ground, only for her to leap up into the air, grab it and land back down onto Sky's back. The agonized grunt that came from him both made her want to flinch and gave her a flitter of satisfaction.

She looked up to see Thrush charging at her, his twin black blades gleaming wickedly in his hands. Dove and Cardin were back on their feet too, recovering from her attacks. She wouldn't give them the opportunity to recover, launching forwards and crashing into Thrush with enough force to send him flying backwards. Dove came up behind Thrush with the start of a swing and Pyrrha spun low on her feet, catching his blade with her own as she continued to spin methodically, teasing him by opening her back long enough to incite an attack, only to whip around and riposte it. She threw out a kick and sent him flying, only for Cardin to come flying overhead, his mace looking to break her skull. She lept backwards and rolled, transforming Milo to open a volley of shots as she landed, poking it out from the dipylon cut on Akouo.

Thrush jumped between her and Dove, blocking her shots before launching himself at her, rolling forwards with his blades in midair as if becoming a Boarbatusk. He came out of it with a kick, connecting with her shield and forcing her back as he and Dove launched an all-out assault, their blades feverishly stabbing and dicing at her, only stopped by her own blade, her shield or her Semblance working overtime to nudge them out of the way. They finally backed off, only for Pyrrha's Aura to scream at her to watch her back. She turned and saw Cardin coming at her with a braining swing, forcing her to roll out of the way and into a crouch, Milo changing again into its rifle mode. Cardin spun his mace and blocked each shot before launching himself forwards for yet another strike.

 _Time to improvise for a change._ Pyrrha kept pace with him, jumping up only to bring her leg up into a kick and slam her knee into his jaw, staggering him back out of his charge. He stumbled back upright, going into a wild swing. The two began exchanging strikes, Pyrrha's fast attacks and drilled combinations landing shots where Cardin could not.

Then came Thrush, dipping down past Cardin as the larger boy stumbled backwards, the thin, lanky Thrush lunging into her with his twin blades. She dodged them all, stepping back far enough to pull one of her favorite flourishes. She sent her spear into a spinning vault around her neck as she blocked his blades again, lobbing her shield into his face and catching it as it ricocheted back up into the air, the spear resting in the crook of her neck and shoulders. She brought the spear around and slapped him across the chest and brought it back to the same spot, only to fire a Dust cartridge to lauch the blade forwards as Dove charged in. The threat of Milo's speed stopped him as he deflected it, only for her to duck low and under her spear to fire another lunging shot at him. He blocked it as well, only to wheel about and open fire with his blade's gun, Akouo dropping down just in time to block his shots. She charged forwards, ramming him with enough force to stumble backwards beside Cardin. Winchester didn't pay his partner an ounce of attention as he backhanded Dove with his mace, letting out an explosive Dust charge, fast enought that Pyrrha barely managed to leap into the air and away from the strike.

 _Okay,_ she thought to herself, _time we ended this dance._

She launched forwards as she hit the ground, slashing at his side and spinning him in place through sheer inertia before swinging up into his jaw. Cardin Winchester went flying into the air, losing a grip on his mace as he soared up. Pyrrha wasted no time as she remembered her Father's favorite man-to-man finishing move, the Angel's Fury: She launched into the air and slashed at him, sending him back with enough force to knock him back several feet. She reached out with her Semblance to keep her shield and Cardin afloat and stationary long enough for her to kick off from it, latching onto his arm. She kicked high and swung around, grabbing Milo and catching him in a choke hold.

She let loose her Semblance, and the two tumbled to the ground, Pyrrha rolling in on herself as Cardin screamed the whole way to the floor.

The sound that he made as they landed on the ground, Pyrrha kneeling as she piledrived Cardin into the floor. Without a second's hesitation, she sprang backwards, again catching his jaw with her knee plate and her boot. His Aura crackled and fizzled out, his body bouncing like a limp rag doll as he slammed into the floor after flying five feet into the air.

He desperately, agonizingly tried to return to his feet as Akouo fell back onto her outstretched arm, _Stay down,_ she thought to herself, _if you know what's good for you._

He never rose more than sitting on his knees, doubled over with his hand over his gut.

Professor Goodwitch walked up between them, declaring, "and that's the match."

Pyrrha could hear Cardin groan, "Lucky shot," just as he then fell over on his side, out cold. Dove and Thrush and a semi-lucid Gale dragged their team leader away, all of them limping or nursing an extremity.

"Well done, Miss Nikos," Glynda said with a proud tone to her voice. "You should have no problem qualifying for the tournament tomorrow."

Pyrrha beamed as she replied, "Thank you, professor."

Glynda nodded with a smile as she turned to the rest of the Auditorium. "Alright, now I know that's a tough act to follow, but we have time for one more sparring match. Any volunteers?"

Silence. Pyrrha looked up into the crowd, noticing several new faces there amongst the likes of her classmates. She could see Cinder and her team there, as well as Sun's team and several others she noticed. She could even see her uncle up in the top most row of bleachers, beaming brightly at her. About then, Pyrrha noticed Blake sitting not far from her uncle, looking nearly-asleep in her bleacher. Pyrrha frowned as she wondered if the attack by the White Fang had messed with her any more than she already seemed to be stressed about.

"Ms. Belladonna? You've been rather docile for the past few classes," Ms. Goodwitch commented. "Why don't you—"

A hand shot up from the crowd.

"I volunteer," she heard from the voice of Jacob.

Pyrrha blinked in surprise. _What is he doing?_

"Mr. Muller? Are you sure about this," Ms. Goodwitch commented with a worried look. "I wouldn't want you to get any more hurt than you already are, all things considered."

"Nah, you kidding? I'm feeling much better this morning." He stood up and flexed his arm and yawed forwards to prove his point.

"Well... if you insist. Let's find you an opponent."

"With all due respect, Ms. Goodwitch," he said as he came down to the edge of the seats, "I've been meaning to fight someone in particular."

Pyrrha raised her brow in curiosity.

He turned and pointed up towards Cinder's team.

"Ms. Fall, tell me: are you up for a spar?"

* * *

 **Well, that's a way to end a chapter. Again, I apologize for the delay, but it's been a crazy last few weeks... and it's only gonna get worse from here.**

 **Next time, Cinder vs. Jacob, Round One! Who wins, who loses, who wins twenty bucks? Find out next time, same time, same place!**

 **Reviews are welcomed gladly, I always appreciate likes and follows, all of that good stuff. Thank you for your patience and you time and I will see you all... in the next chapter. Bye~!**


	28. Testing the Waters

**Considering my school work, several RPs on Discord and 16 hours of work each week, I'm amazed I made my target date this time around. Anyhow, here comes the chapter you guys were waiting for.**

 **Enjoy...**

* * *

 **Chapter 28: Testing the Waters**

* * *

 _If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle. —Sun Tzu, The Art of War_

* * *

Cinder had a great deal of history fighting Huntsmen of all stripes and creeds; Professionals from Mistral, students in Vacuo who had gone too far astray from their mission, mercenary teams for hire deep in the forests of Anima, the odd Huntress here, a random drunk soldier there. All of them had been easy to remove, easy to clear with only her fighting skills and her Aura. She remembered several of their faces quite easily, their defeats and respective deaths either amusing or very detailed in her memory. She remembered the massive Bear Faunus Huntsman from Hanigura she found on the way to Haven to first meet with Lionheart, his massive punch daggers failing to hit her at all as she closed in and slit his throat open. There was that one olive-skinned girl outside of Mountain Glenn so many years ago that Cinder had long since forgotten exactly when, only that it had been her first Huntress kill and that no kill after it had been quite like it. Cinder Fall was not inexperienced in the matters of combat, murder and assassination.

Why she had even been busy this morning reliving the memory of her fight with the Fall Maiden. Oh, how that memory was so fresh, so livid, almost a bit too exhilarating for her to mentally consume. She never could hae taken the girl on alone in raw power, of that even she was vehemently aware of; no normal Huntsman could go blow-for-blow with a Maiden and have any chance of survival unless the Maiden didn't seek bloodshed that day. But cunning always won out the day over brute force, and Cinder wanted that very brute force. To make it her own... to forge it and herself... to become something far greater, far more powerful, far more... _divine_ , to put it modestly in her mind.

And the power of the Maiden—even if it did resist her on occasion—was truly divine-feeling. The heat that embraced her bones and—

"Ms. Fall, tell me: are you up for a spar?"

Cinder blinked in surprise at the mention of her name, her mind returning from its vacation in her memories. She had expected that eventually someone would attempt to spar with her and she would have to decide if she mopped the floor with them or she let them win to throw the Inquisition off her trail. Every action was a step on a tightrope, and while she was deft at working plans to her advantage no matter how poorly things were going otherwise. She never lost unless it meant she would win in the long run. If she lost, she got even fast; no one would ever be allowed to hold a victory over her.

Cinder cleared her throat as she looked down towards the auditorium. She recognized the voice, but she could swear to herself and Salem that the owner of that voice would have to be absolutely stupid or acting on Ozpin's orders—

She felt a twinge of a frown across her face as her amber eyes met coffee brown eyes. His focus on her was scarily sharp, as if his eyes would turn into throwing daggers at the first sign of her mask of normalcy dropping. Their lock on one another was ironclad even at such a distance, her eyes darting to check if his face yielded any semblance of deceit in its movement, any traces of jest in his eyes or his brows. But the look on his face—while still a smile—was enough to tell her that he was dead serious.

Who was he to challenge her to a duel in the ring, one part of her mind screamed in outrage, only to be snuffed in the velvet claws of her self-control and iron authority. She blinked as she allowed a polite smile to encroach upon her face. "Oh," she said with faux-surprise, "I would be delighted to, Mr. Muller. It's been quite a while since I've sparred for an audience; perhaps now is the time to rectify that."

While at face value a lie, she actually spoke some manner of truth; She hadn't sparred in front of an audience since she had shown up Tyrion in front of Salem and Watts some two years—or perhaps it had been three years—ago.

Muller's smile seemed to shift in some way, a hint of fear in his eyes manifesting that betrayed the widening of his smile and the furrowing of his brow. "Smells like a good, old-fashioned fight."

Cinder's jaw clenched slightly at his tone. This wasn't a coincidence.

Several of the students around him muttered things in such tones that they were clearly words of confidence, though the only one she could actively hear was the blonde and buxom girl comment, "Whoo! Go get her, tiger!"

Cinder suppressed the urge to scoff. _As if he would be worthy of me. At the least, he is worthy of tasting my strength._

She stood up and began to walk down towards him, letting her steps remain calm and poised as she descended, a smirk at the likelihood the boys in the crowd were ogling the goddess descending the stairs. It took less than ten seconds to close the distance between them, the two of them standing within their personal bubbles. Cinder suppressed a contentious chuff as she realized that even for him being a twenty-year old man she stood almost 6 inches taller than him in her two-inch heels. If she hadn't known better, she would have called him a child digging too deep into the game of gods and monsters.

But there was dangerous edge to his eyes that spoke of knowledge she wasn't privy to, mired with that hint of fear, as if he knew too well what she held within her. Could he have seen through her disguise so easily? Did he already know she was the Fall Maiden?

"Alright then," she heard Goodwitch say from the auditorium floor. "Ms. Cinder Fall versus Mr. Jacob Muller. Would both combatants please head to the lockers to prepare their gear?"

Jacob nodded as he offered Cinder a handshake. "Good luck."

She smiled with a venomous coyness, countering with the same gesture as their last encounter; she offered the back of her hand daintily, as if begging him to kiss it.

He seemed to hesitate at first, only to drop a façade over his face and play her game, his tiny but squared hand taking her dainty but larger hand and bringing up to his lips. She felt the tiniest kiss on the spot just above her middle finger, a small pucker of air releasing and tickling her skin there.

She smiled with the tiniest traces of malice made visible to Mr. Muller. _You dance to my tune, boy._

Around them, students whistled and cheered as they mistook their game of cat and mouse as a courtship. How quaint to her, in all honesty; then again, hormones addled the brains so as that everything that was remotely flirtatious in appearance would lead to someone bedding another. She would have let out a short and cruel laugh were she not attempting to remain undercover.

Mr. Muller came up from his kiss still wearing a cruel and knowing smile of his own, his face slightly puckered in pain as if his lips had been scorched by her very skin. "Let's give them a show."

 _I intend to,_ she thought as she let out a near-nonexistent snort in retort to his comment.

A few minutes later, Cinder was sitting down in the ladies' locker rooms, sharpening her swords and the tips of her arrows as she thought over what was to happen. Once upon a time, she had loved the sound of a grindstone against her steel and mithril-alloy blades, relishing in the sharp and fierce ring as the blade was made to a fine edge sharp enough to slice a throat in a single cut. Nowadays, though, it was a shallow reminder of when she was a lesser being, not imbued with the power of the gods and forced to fight as everyone else did. If she had her way, she would have scorched him with the powers of the Fall Maiden, simply flicking her wrist to incinerate him on the spot. She relished in her imagination's cruelty, watching the wannabe Huntsman erupt into a screaming mass of burning human.

A heat rising in her stomach punched her out of her daydream, threatening to make her double over. She growled as she clutched her chest, feeling the power lash out again.

"Son of a bitch," she hissed to the void, "it's getting worse."

She closed her eyes and breathed in a colossal breath, trying to quell the flame within her in the gust of wind she drew to her lungs. Somehow it began to work, though far more slowly than it should have by all account, the flames licking at the inside of her for a few minutes. It was like being boiled alive, the power refusing to submit to its rightful heir.

It bit at her, and she hissed in response. "You are mine to control," she said. "You _will_ obey me."

 _She imagined an iron hand wrapping around the flame, cutting its air off to choke the life from it. The heat began to drop, her authority forcing it down. It was weakening, yes, but if she let her concentration slip, it would be back to Square 1._

 **BEEP! BEEP!**

Cinder startled at the ring of a shrill buzzer, the heat returning to her bosom. She looked up to see an alarm and a lighted sign, requesting of her to enter back into the Auditorium proper.

"Fuck," she roared quietly to herself, slipping back into her thoughts. If she could just... suppress it...

 _The fire was in her mind's eye again, dancing playfully, viciously, as if mocking her. It aggravated her, embarassed her, enfuriated her. She would not bow to this at such a moment as this._

She took a deep breath again, closing her eyes as a thought crossed her mind.

 _Perhaps an iron hand won't work..._

 _The hands appeared again in her mind, threatening the renewed fire again. But this time, the hands suddenly fused together, the mass it formed encircled the flames; from the mass, fingers grew long, sharp and pointed like teeth, the form of the hand itself bulking with unseen power, both mechanical and of something else. Energy crackled from the claws, blacks, reds, oranges and violets that reminded Cinder of a midnight fire. From the back of the wrist came shapes like gun barrels and ammo belts, glaring the flame down with cold fury, the kind that extinguished stars and rattled hearts with fear. The talon encircled the flame like a great cage, squeezing itself around the flame with slow, encroaching horror of oblivion._

 _ **SCHLIK!**_

The talon closed, and the heat seemed to settle. It was not fully gone, but it was at least back to some manner of normality.

She grinned maliciously, letting out the breath slowly, methodically. "Like I said... I'm the one in control here."

She alighted to her feet, her duro-glass slippers clacking with reverb throughout the room as she walked out towards the auditorium. Every arrow she had was loaded, her blades _Shade_ and _Shock_ now sharp and the energy cord between them when in blow form empowered and ready for use.

"The Maiden will have to wait to come out and play, I'm afraid. Today is Cinder Fall's day in the spotlight."

* * *

"Do you guys really think he could handle her?"

"In all honesty... I have doubts, I'm afraid."

"Ren, how could you?!"

"I mean, of course I'm rooting for him, but by what we do know of Team CMNE, Cinder is quite the strong fighter. Jacob is entering a fight far more advanced than he really should try for."

"Well, if he doesn't get out of his comfort zone, he'll never get better, right?"

"Guys, let's just root him on, okay?"

Pyrrha blinked as her partner's voice reached her ears. She turned to look at him, catching the gaze of his sapphire blue eyes as he watched her. He looked poisitively radiant to her, his bid dopey smile giving her pause as she felt those same tickles of metaphorical butterflies in her stomach.

"He'll be alright," Jaune said calmly, a mindset he reinforced with the brightness to his eyes. He flashed smile. "He's been training with Pyrrha and I, right?"

Pyrrha blinked again, feeling the slightest tinge of physical wear from her battle with Cardin and his goons. "Uhm... of course," she replied, "he should do well against her. I mean, my training isn't as intrinsic as it should be, but he knows enough of the basics that he shouldn't have a hard time..."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Pyrrha began doubting that she had been the best teacher for him thus far as she thought more and more about Jacob's comment from a few nights earlier. At first, some part of her had felt a little bit betrayed by the action, only for her common sense to slap that feeling out of her. At this point, the most she could do was continue to teach him in regards to using Cadia's sword form rather than its chainsaw form; Professor Cain, on the other hand, was well known in Atlas and to some degree in the other Kingdoms for his skill with the very same weapon, having carved through hundreds of Grimm during his career as an active Huntsman in the field. Was it so wrong of him to look for other tutors where she couldn't be of help?

 _ **BRZZT!**_

Pyrrha jumped as a bell rang from up in the rafters of the auditorium. The bell to clear the center ring; the fight was about to start.

It was Jacob who stepped out first, coming in from the opposite side of the auditorium from where JNPR and RWBY were. He seemed to walk out with a sharp focus in his eyes as he watched across the way, taking small, slow steps as his hands sat in his jacket pockets. Cadia and Titan hung from his belt, the gunmetal weapon still in its sword form as it remained in its still plain and monotone scabbard. He seemed less like he was about to fight and more like he was about to take a leisurely stroll around the campus. His mouth was crinkled up in a grimace as he ran a hand through his thick pelt of hair, giving him an unsure look to his every move.

But Pyrrha didn't need to look too hard and too closely to see there was some manner of fire in his eyes, as if he was sure he would win—at least at first guess as to what it meant.

Then came the tiniest sound that Pyrrha could still audibly hear.

 _Click, click, click, click, click..._

Around the room, wolf-whistles echoed about from several of the boys, and even that one girl Piniona from Team PINK as well. Pyrrha watched the entrance to the locker rooms as the sound of heeled boots meeting the floor

A single leg entered into the light with a quick step, long and toned, the foot at the end in what looked like dressy date-night boots as the leg itself was clothed in olive-grey, tight pants. Another step and more of her came into the light, Pyrrha immediately noticing the seductive swagger to her every step, as if she was enticing every boy in the room to root for her. Her bare midriff and the odd wrapping of bandages on her hips beneath her pants gave her a rogueish air as she strutted into the light. Pyrrha still couldn't get over the risqué sarashi that she wore beneath her light tan leather vest, as if she was a bordello girl from Mistral's undercities. Her hair left free and a bang drawn over her eye as there was a confidant, nearly-arrogant smile across her face, intensified by... a true fire in her eyes.

Pyrrha blinked. Had she not known that Ms. Fall had bright amber eyes, she would have thought that her eyes were really made of flames.

"Break a leg, Jacob," Nora cried out, having manifested a tub of popcorn for her and Ren to share.

"Sweep her off her feet~!"

Pyrrha looked over at Yang as she finished saying that, the blonde bruiser unable to hide her teasing smile before Pyrrha could see it.

Pyrrha cocked an eyebrow as if to say, 'really' to her.

Yang shrugged. "What?"

The two combatants stepped onto the platform, Jacob popping his knuckles as he approached the center of the ring. There, Professor Goodwitch stood with her crop and Scroll, ready to referee the match.

Cinder met him at the center, her face away from Pyrrha as they listened for Glynda's rules.

"Alright, you two," she said loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, "I want a good fight; additional gear is usable, first one to 10% Aura loses. Bring out your weapons and tap them."

Jacob's gaze never left Cinder, a noticeable tightness to his stance as he reached for Cadia and brought it out with a clean draw, bringing it up to his face in a military salute. Cinder returned the gesture, reaching for two scimitars at her side and drawing them with lightning speed, spinning them like a whirling dervish of steel as she brought them up and across her torso, looking to all the world as though she was emulating a pirate's flag. The two leaned their weapons forwards, the blades clacking together like the crack of lightning.

In the back of her mind, Pyrrha started wondering if there was more to this fight than at first glance.

"Alright," Glynda said, "take positions across the way. Good luck to both of you."

Glynda turned and began to walk, but neither moved away at first. Jacob looked like he wanted to say something at first, only the words seemed to stop in his throat. He shook his head and then seemed to finally decide against it, pulling his blade away with a twirl and the sound of the blade signing as it cut through the air.

Pyrrha now could see the look on Cinder's face; it was ponderous and amused all at once, as if something had clicked in her mind. Maybe she had finally noticed that he liked her?

They stopped on their respective ends of the auditorium and turned. Cinder spun her blades about and twirled on her feet in a fine-tuned dance, not unlike a Vacuan belly dancer with her silks and sashes. She stopped with her blades crossed as she was poised to spring forwards and charge him point blank. Jacob retorted as he spun Cadia ferociously, the sound of metal shifting and an engine awakening as its chainsword form revealed itself. He stomped once and turned sideways, spreading his legs out and bringing Cadia back behind him and yanked Titan from his belt thrusting it forward. It was a simple opening stance, but it was smart to open with his ranged weapon; though, now, Pyrrha couldn't help but notice the quiver of arrows on Cinder's back.

 _Swords that change into a bow. That's not good._

"Huntsmen, ready," Glynda said as she tapped her Scroll. Overhead, the defensive energy shielding that protected the bleachers buzzed to life, enwrapping the stage in a blue, faint light before fading and becoming invisible.

"Get set... Fight!"

 ** _BRZZT!_**

Before the echoes of the sound have even finished reverberating through the building, Cinder had leapt forwards into the air, bringing her blades together as gunshots rang out to announce Jacob's volley at her. Pyrrha had to bite back a shocked gasp as she watched Cinder fly high overhead, to heights Pyrrha only reached when she drew upon her Semblance to yank her towards her opponents. She saw the swords reconnecting as Cinder brought an arrow to nock in the bow—no, scratch that, three arrows. Cinder drew back the string as she began to descend again within the span of a second, a whistle heralding the three arrows' flight. The black and steel, artistic-concave arrows soared in a spiral around the center one, looking to catch Jacob in the forehead.

Jacob ducked out of the way with milliseconds to spare, rolling and spinning back onto his feet as Cinder landed and followed suit, only for her to slide into a kneel and bring her bow-swords up into Jacob's face pommels-first. The attack slammed into the patch of Aura surrounding his nose, sending him back a step as he swung wild with Cadia. Cinder leaned back onto her legs and kicked outwards as the legs became free, catching him in the knees and sending him to the ground. Jacob didn't take a moment or even a stunning like that to stop him, rolling on his side and coming back up onto his feet with a few steps of backpedaling. Cinder vaulted back upright, like a cat chasing its prey. She began following him as he backed away, the fight lulling after that brief second of fighting.

Pyrrha let out a small hum in her throat as she watched them; Jacob's posture, the wildness in his eyes, the wobbliness to his stance, all of it were bad signs by Pyrrha's consideration; he needed to calm down or he would risk losing the fight. Granted, he was playing it safe as she clearly was following him along rather than forcing him into a corner; he was moving first before she would follow suit.

Cinder, on the other hand, exhumed the confidence akin to the most veteran of Huntresses. She seemed at ease as she followed him, her arms relaxed as she held her blades close to her. Pyrrha couldn't deny that by her behavior alone she was well-versed in man-to-man combat. It was almost... unsettling, in all honesty.

"She's good," Jaune said as he continued to watch their battle.

"Really good," Yang replied as Team RWBY scooted in beside their sister-team, sans a very tired-looking Blake. "You'd think she regularly fights in tournaments or something. Have you ever seen her before, Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha shook her head. "She's never been in the Mistral Regionals as far as I've been aware... come to think of it, I never saw her at Sanctum either, as one of my classmates or as one of my upperclassmen."

"Perhaps she was home-schooled," Weiss offered as she looked over, only for her gaze to dark back at the sound of metal clashing against metal, "and by extension... she was... good enough that Headmaster Lionheart let her in... on merit?"

Pyrrha's gaze snapped back up to the fight as Weiss' comment had been interrupted by a stream of melee attacks by Cinder. She had darted in close to Jacob, becoming a graceful tornado of steel. Jacob could barely stop her blades with Cadia, gunning its engine as he swung into the blur of a warrior. Just as before, she slinked under the blade like a bending reed, the chain-teeth breezing her chest and nose by inches. This time, however, he was ready, kicking his foot out to catch her heel. She saw it make impact, but Cinder didn't go down in a tumble; rather, she was quick to hit her back and then somersault backwards, the Huntress bringing her blades up as she performed her vault.

Pyrrha cringed as Jacob went seven feet into the air, lobbed into the air by Cinder's attack. He audibly screamed as went up, only to be juggled as her swords morphed back into a bow to lob several arrows in rapid succession. Each hit Jacob just off center, sending him into a spin as he crashed back down stomach-first onto the cold, hard floor.

The sympathy groans echoed across the room, only voided by Cardin and his team, as well as several others cheering Cinder on. "Show 'em how it's done, hot-stuff!"

Cinder tossed her hair as she turned to Cardin and the rest of the audience. She seemed to smirk, striking a small pout of her hips to her pose as she brought her hand up over her mouth. Pyrrha didn't know whether to be irked or impressed by her as Cinder feigned a kiss into her hand before blowing it out into the crowd, getting several whistles in reply.

"Get up, Jacob," Ruby cried out, bringing Pyrrha's attention back to Jacob. Cadia and Titan were both strewn about in front of him, the Huntsman trying to return to his feet but failing horribly. He was clutching his head as his line of sight bored into the ground, his body stuck in a kneel as he seemed to fight off the dizziness he was clearly feeling. With a shake of his head and an unsteady rise, he picked up Cadia and Titan, turning about to face Cinder.

He revved Cadia, clearly trying to get her attention. Cinder payed him no mind.

Now Pyrrha was unsure whether this battle was actually good-natured or not. Jacob's grimace tinged with anger only seemed to prove her point more.

He lunged forwards, the engine roaring to life as he brought the blade up to slash diagonally. Pyrrha winced as she noticed his poor footing. His left foot was too low, blade too far back, chest was open to attack despite his arm being in front of it; he was committing too much into his swing and not enough into being able to change.

Cinder didn't even seem to flinch or balk, spinning on her heels to catch Cadia with her blade. The two swords ricocheted off of one another, Jacob's blade sending him wheeling backwards. Cinder closed in and stabbed at his chest, catching him right beneath the left side of his ribcage. With enough force to send him tumbling back onto his back. He didn't stay there, though, using the momentum to roll back into a crouch, Titan now back in his hand as he brought it up. There was a retort of 380s as he snapped off an entire clip of shots in close range, Cinder only managing to weave between four of the seven shots. The last three slammed into her one after another; her leg kicked out behind her as her Aura caught the first bullet of Lightning Dust, catching her off as she landed in a crouch, before the other two slammed into her head, sending her into a backflip as her red and gold Aura flared in reply. She managed to resume control of herself, continuing her backflip before she vaulted high and twirled in a flourish mid-air, coming down in a kneel as she brought back her blades as if the maw of a large insect opening wide.

Now the crowd was actively starting to root for Cinder, cheering at her recovery. Pyrrha applauded nonchalantly at the admittedly-impressive control Cinder was showing as she fought; She must have been trained by one of the many professional Huntsmen before she was enrolled in Haven, no doubt about it.

"She's amazing," Ruby said, staring at the fight with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

"Her control is almost professional," Weiss replied.

Pyrrha nodded. "She could probably beat any one of us in a battle," she said aloud, "maybe even in a fight like mine with Team CRDL."

"You can do it, Jacob," Yang cried out, "show her who's boss!"

Jacob reloaded Titan with a few motions, chambering by pulling back the slide back with his belt. He clicked the button to change Cadia back into a saber in his other hand, leveling Titan at his side as he yanked it free of the belt and let loose another volley. Cinder wheeled around the cone of fire in a graceful dance as her blades rebounded and redirected the Dust rounds away. She righted herself and launched forwards in the same motion, clearing a huge distance with a few steps.

Jacob audibly growled at Cinder, taking off into a charge of his own, how own blade drawn back in a similar gesture as before. "Courage and Honor," he roared out as he swung down, catching Cinder's blades as the two closed the distance in the center of the platform. Cinder vaulted over him with no effort again, only to crest over Jacob's gun arm.

"Ooh boy," Yang snickered from beside Pyrrha.

Pyrrha winced as another Dust shot slammed into Cinder's back as Jacob thought fast, bringing his sword around and slashing in the same spot. Cinder flew forwards about ten feet, only to spin and stab the ground beneath her, redirecting her momentum to launch back at him. Jacob had no time to duck out of the way, taking the brunt of her boots in the chest, sending him backwards as she launched off of him in the same attack, her swords changing them back into a bow. Before Pyrrha could blink, Cinder had fired two arrows at her opponent, both slamming into his chest and sending him crashing to the ground in a rolling heap.

The room seemed to be conflicted between cheering for the engaging fight that it was or being in silence as they watched Pyrrha's friend and student. Pyrrha leaned forwards and shifted forwards beside her partner, her mind registering that her hand now rested on Jaune's but her mind focused on her friend, laying there on the ground.

A second or two later, there was a stir of movement. He budged slightly at first, a small groan escaping his throat as his arms slowly pulled them under his body. He tried to rise at first, only for his arms to very clearly buckle. He tried again, getting a lot more inertia on this attempt and managing to raise himself off the floor.

The silence in the room was deafening, only punctuated by his groans. After a few seconds, he had staggered to his feet, still clutching Cadia and Titan tightly in his grip.

Cinder stood, looking curiously at him, as if studying him. "My, my, you're a determined one, Mr. Muller," she said with a chuckle as she absently spun her blades. "It is a real treat fighting someone as spirited as you, but I don't want to push you too far. You sure you can keep going?"

Pyrrha looked back at him, a distance in his eyes for a few seconds as he looked down towards the ground. He looked back up to the crowd, the Huntsmen and Huntresses in the bleachers calling for him to call it quits; Even Pyrrha knew that he was well and outmatched against her. It was apparent even on the overhead, as his Aura was dropped to 46% whereas Cinder's was only down to 83%. Gods, even looking at the two of them side-by-side said a lot in comparison; Jacob was looking tired and well-winded despite his Aura supercharging his endurance, while Cinder... she hadn't broken even that much of a sweat, perhaps a drop or two that made her brow shine brighter.

Pyrrha glanced back and forth between them, stopping as she realized that his eyes had trained on her now. It was a simple stare that seemed dazzled, as if he was remembering something by seeing her sitting there. Part of her felt... unnerved by his stare, admittedly. But another part of her felt like he wanted to project something to her, like... like a shield.

 _Just what is going through his mind?_

That distance seemed to clear up a few seconds later, the fire and focus from before back again. "Sorry about that," Jacob said, his voice tired but strong again as his voice reached the bleachers. He brought Cadia back around, bringing it up in front of him as he thumbed Titan's side. His feet were apart, his back hunched as if he was ready to spring. The smile on his face seemed tinged with some hidden humor, as if there was an unspoken joke between the two of them. "But in all honesty, in regards to fighting you, I think I could do this all day."

There were a couple cheers from the bleachers as he puffed out his chest. Pyrrha appreciated the sentiment, even letting a small smile slip out.

Cinder let out a chuckle, one that Pyrrha swore sounded both amused and a tinge dark in its tone. "Well, I suppose we should finish this, then?"

Jacob bowed his head. "Ladies first."

Cinder said nothing, only spinning her blades again before leaping forwards into a sprint. Jacob backed up and began firing, flinching as if expecting her to do the same move again. Instead, Cinder slid low, riding her momentum like an ice skater as her swords became a bow again, the bullets skimming overhead as she closed the distance; twenty feet out, fifteen, ten feet, the gap closing fast. She launched another two arrows at Jacob, the arrows coated in some kind of Fire Dust if the fact they were catching fire was any indicator. Jacob yanked himself aside as the first arrow slid through the air where his should had been, the second one following in close pursuit. He snapped off two more rounds, the shots pinging off the floor beside her as she spun backwards, leaping up in the same motion to lunge at him, as if she were a sentient cyclone.

Jacob's eyes went visibly wide as he ducked, Cinder's bow-blades nearly giving him a raider haircut as they zoomed by. He rolled forwards and tossed an IED from his jacket pocket as she hit the ground, Cinder somersaulting away from him as the IED exploded into a shower of Lightning Dust. Jacob skidded onto his rear as he rolled away, rolling about to empty the last few shots at her. Cinder twisted and spun like a dancer again, all of the bullets missing her and pinging off of the bleacher shielding behind her. Another arrow was loosed by her, flying like a black and fire-red shrike, Jacob not even moving to try to dodge it.

Pyrrha winced yet again as the arrow smacked him chest first, sending him tumbling backwards again. He recovered from his roll, wincing and holding his chest tightly as he recovered. His ammo spent, he started charging back at her, looking to get into a melee fight. Cinder obliged without hesitation, engaging her swords again and sprinting forwards to honor his proposition. The two clashed in the center of the auditorium, saber meeting cutlasses in a single, monolithic crash. They stood that way at first, a shoving match to decide who was stronger. Around them the crowds grew louder and louder, cheering both parties on; it was a polarizing mess.

Teams RWBY and JNPR watched on in rapt intensity, their own reactions varied. Jaune and Nora were openly cheering Jacob on, Yang and Ruby joining them while Weiss and Ren watched in silence, their eyes refusing to leave the battlefield. Pyrrha herself was cheering him on in her head, not wanting to become too much of an external force.

At first, Jacob seemed to be holding his ground, his more stout and squared form giving him a decent anchor to hold Cinder at bay. But a quick glance at the board told Pyrrha that he was pushing his limit; he was down to 24% Aura from those two volleys of arrows, each one clearly having a massive effect despite the gradual strengthening of his Aura. It showed as well in how much his Aura was augmenting his body, his strength visibly waning compared to the start of the fight, the faint glow of a failing Aura permeating his body. He was breathing heavily and his neck, forehead and cheeks were starting to sweat fairly openly. Despite holding out longer in the field and against Weiss, something about this fight was throwing him off, making his Aura drop quicker. Maybe Cinder's arrows packed a lot more punch than both he or Pyrrha herself had expected?

Speaking of which, Cinder, by contrast, didn't even seem winded. The faint shine of sweat wanting to build on her forehead, but otherwise there was nothing that really was Jacob's doing, nothing that had been incited by his attacks or his efforts; Even the shots from Titan had done little to her. If anything, she seemed to have redoubled her energy, now striking against Jacob with even more force behind her. It didn't help that her Aura must have been amazingly high in the first place, as with all the hits done to her she hadn't even lost a full quarter of her Aura yet.

 _She must have a Class-8 Aura, maybe even a 9,_ Pyrrha realized with some degree of shock. Not even she had an Aura that strong, hers only reaching Class-7. Pound for pound, Cinder could take twenty times as much damage.

About then Jacob's Aura was at best a Class-4 when last assessed. He had wandered into this fight with a clear disadvantage and probably didn't even realize it.

That disadvantage began to manifest as the fight started to turn. Jacob started twitching, his arms avoiding caving as much as they possibly could, Cinder starting to apply force back at him. His head dipped own, as if trying to draw from some inner strength to push back. But the metaphorical wall he was acting like was collapsing, and Cinder was pressing the advantage even further. He roared defiantly, the sound almost drowned out by the cheering from the bleachers.

Finally, with a solid push, Cinder pushed forwards, Jacob's legs buckling in reply. Jacob spun to the left, swinging into her, the _schwing_ of Cadia's teeth coming out just audible over the crowd. She saw the teeth come down into Cinder's side, a roar like an animal calling them to action. Metal teeth bounced off of Cinder's Aura, Jacob leaning into the swing and pushing back into Cinder's side, the two falling as Jacob's push became a tackle.

Jacob had no time or way to block as one of Cinder's blades caught him across the face with a massive swing, one that would have gouged his eye out and left a huge scar across his face had his Aura not taken the brunt of it. Jacob cried out as he recoiled back, the pain-absorption of his Aura starting to fail as it dipped to 14%.

"You've got her, man," Jaune called out, "you can do it!"

"Finish her," Nora roared with a wide and vicious smile.

"Call it quits, you idiot," Weiss cried out, "Your Aura is too low!"

"Come on," Pyrrha heard one of Cinder's teammates—Emerald if she remembered right—mutter a few seats off to the side. "He's nothing to you..."

Jacob recovered from his reel quick, standing up and bringing Cadia up and over to slash down on Cinder. She brought her swords up as she laid on her side, blocking Cadia's blow with a cross of the two blades. Sparks erupted over the two of them as chain-teeth and swords ground against one another, the angry roar of Cadia's engine melding with the grinding shriek of metal scraping metal. The shoving match began anew, but now Jacob straddled Cinder, giving him the raw advantage of gravity and momentum. Cinder was pinned to the ground, her swords holding back as much as she possibly could, the two now fully locked in stalemate of an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.

They stayed like this, one or the other weakening slightly with each second.

Finally, Cinder seemed to have enough, if the look on her face was any indicator. The fire in her eyes returned, a snarl on her face in tandem.

But rather than strike low like Pyrrha expected her to in that situation, she let a blade break loose, letting her other sword take the chainsword's bite. It failed without a second's hesitation, the teeth ripping at her Aura, only dropping it a paltry sum.

The other sword, however, struck true at its intended target, aiming to finish this fight once and for all; Jacob's chest.

With her stab at his chest, Jacob recoiled back as his Aura took the impact, reeling on his heels as the pain failed to be stopped by his Aura, despite the lack of damage. Cinder's legs and arms were free, and she put them to use, vaulting upwards and into Jacob's stomach. Cadia flew free of his grip as he fell backwards like a fallen tree, Cinder rising to stand over him.

The impact was a potent one, his body making a sizeable _thud_ in reply. Over him, Cinder stood tall and proud, walking around and resting her foot on his chest. She drew one of her swords and brought it to his neck, Pyrrha noticing at a distance it seemed to be... glowing slightly red?

"Surrender," she asked, looking down at him with a coy smile. Her free hand pointed up to the scoreboard; 11% to her 76%.

Jacob seemed to think at first wanting to keep going, but his situation was completely against his favor. It was another second or two before his head finally went limp and thunked against the floor. "I concede," he said aloud, tapping the floor with a free hand twice.

 ** _BZRRRT!_**

"And that's the match," Professor Goodwitch said aloud. "The winner is Ms. Cinder Fall!"

There were cheers and claps around the bleachers, the student body showering Cinder with appraisal. She took a stage bow for them, her smile bright and calm, as if the outcome had never been in doubt.

Pyrrha couldn't pretend that she didn't want to applaud Cinder's performance; for as tense a match as it was, it was still rather entertaining. Jacob had done his best, but with a power comparison like theirs, there was no doubt that he would have needed to completely take her by surprise to win, and even then, it would be a monumental feat of stratagem and skill to best her fighting.

Speaking of Jacob, Cinder had just removed her boot from his chest and had pulled the blade a few inches back, just enough that Jacob could crawl away and catch his breath. Instead, he laid on the ground in the same spot, panting heavily and resting a hand over his heart. His eyes were shut in an angry squint, not even attempting to open to stare up at Cinder.

Pyrrha couldn't help but feel a bit downtrodden for him at a defeat like that. About then, she noticed her godfather-dash-uncle turn and look at another person who had joined him. It was Professor Cain, and both were wearing concerned looks as they looked down and surveyed the auditorium stage, discussing between themselves. Pyrrha couldn't help but wonder what it was they were talking about.

"That was a good fight, both of you," Professor Goodwitch said as she walked up onto stage, "and both of you will do you schools proud at the Festival. Mr. Muller, you might want to double down on your training before the Tournament arrives, just as a suggestion; otherwise, you did excellently in comparison to previous battles."

"Solid copy, Glynda," Jacob replied though his heavy panting.

Glynda turned to look at Cinder as both Pyrrha and Yang began to leave the bleachers, heading down the stairwell to help pick Jacob up off the ground. "And you, Ms. Fall," Pyrrha heard the Professor say, "are a remarkable fighter. I'd dare say that you would even give Ms. Nikos a run for her money in a one-on-one."

"Oh my," Cinder said with a tone that Pyrrha thought almost too sweet to be sincere, "I've gotten many a glowing review of my performance before, but I doubt I would fare well against Ms. Nikos."

Pyrrha felt that urge to slink away out of the new growing limelight, but a need to help Jacob up overrode that urge. Overhead, the bell for class to end rang out, and the auditorium began to empty. She walked closer with Jaune and Nora by her side, replying, "Nonsense, Ms. Fall—or Cinder if you prefer. Fighting you would be an absolute treat! If not before, then certainly during the Vytal Tournament."

Cinder cupped her cheek like a schoolgirl and chuckled, a light sound that even Pyrrha couldn't deny put her at some manner of ease. "Please, Ms. Nikos. Just call me Cinder." She offered a dainty but genuine handshake to Pyrrha.

Pyrrha smiled brightly at Cinder, feeling a kinship to her. She seemed a natural under the spotlight, but that seemed to creep behind a mask of humility to those she saw as her superiors. She offered a hand back as Yang and Ruby helped Jacob up to his feet behind Cinder.

"Please, Cinder," she said, "Ms. Nikos is my mother. just call me Pyrrha."

* * *

"He never should have taken her head on."

"Weiss—"

"I'm serious! He struggles against anyone outside of Jaune's level of combat skill, and he decides to take on a homeschooler of all people? What was he thinking!?"

"How was he supposed to know that she was that good?"

"Can both of your please focus on what's important?"

Yang and Weiss turned around in unison. It was Yang who said something. "What's with you, Blake?"

"A stupid spar is the least of our problems at the moment," she said back to Yang, her eyes glaring daggers, only for those daggers to be weighed down by the bags under her eyes.

Yang huffed as she felt her temper start to simmer. "Blake," she said, "the least you could have done was cheer him on."

Blake only seemed to glower at her partner. Yang didn't know whether to be angry or crestfallen by the Faunus girl's behavior as of the last few days; she had been obsessive about the White Fang and Torchwick before, but now... now it was starting to get disruptive.

In the sunlight of the early afternoon, the hallways of Beacon Academy were still a hodge-podge of grey concrete walls amidst painted white walls, each color matched to the columns that held the ceiling aloft. Now, after a hardy lunch, the girls of Team RWBY were now on their way to their History class with Professor Oobleck, all of them carrying their finished essays on the Themyscan Wars of Secession. It had taken them a while to research it all—not including the time they took to ask Pyrrha personally how her home region was affected by its aftershocks, much to Pyrrha's delight.

"Blake," Ruby said over Yang's shoulder, "You need to relax a bit. This Torchwick stuff if going to wear you out."

Blake seemed to only bristle more at the sentiment. "I'll be fine once we figure out how to stop Torchwick. The White Fang... I don't know, but I can't dwell on that just yet."

"You're going to work yourself into the ground if you keep acting like this, Blake," Weiss replied. "Torchwick can wait."

"But he can't wait! I would almost say that the White Fang can't wait either!"

Yang felt herself recoil at the sudden outburst from her teammate. She knew that Blake had been anxious about the Fang and Torchwick before, but this... this was almost paranoia, and it was getting worrying.

Without another word, they continued walking, not a word shared between them as they traversed the hallways towards Oobleck's class. Yang found herself flanked by a nervous and worried Weiss and Ruby. Blake walked several feet out from them, her mind lost in thought by all accounts. Yang still saw the bags under her eyes from that far out, and she couldn't pretend that Blake's hair seemed a bit messier than usual; sure, it wasn't her gorgeous lion's mane, but it was starting to look slightly frazzled by comparison to her normally elegant and straightened locks.

Yang felt a burning urge to say something, but the word caught in her throat. As students milled about them, the three of them continued maneuvering around the other small groups and teams that they shared the hallway with. Blake, however, bobbed in and out with ease, as if being able to maneuver like this was second nature to her.

As they closed in on the class, the crowds seem to increase, and the din of voices seemed to increase. It was as though there was a massive snag in the foot traffic of the hallway, and it was enough that even Blake was starting to slow down.

"What's with all this foot traffic," Weiss called out, her and Ruby forced to hug close to Yang's sides, much to Yang's ire.

"I don't know," Ruby replied, "I can't see over the crowds."

Yang was now really feeling the ire build. "Hang on," she said, "I'll see what's going on." With that, she began pushing forwards into the crowds ahead of them, leaving her teammates behind to wait a safe distance from the crowds. With each step, she had to force herself farther ahead, a 'sorry' or 'beg pardon' or a 'heads up' leaving her mouth with tone that betrayed her annoyance.

She could recognize where the snag was coming from as she closed in on the intersection of the hallways; it was coming from Oobleck's classroom.

"Yang!"

The blonde bruiser's ears picked up her partner's voice. Her head turned on a swivel, scanning the crowd for a black bow or yellow eyes.

"Blake? Where are you?"

Something tapped her shoulder with some force, making her jump a bit. Anyone in the immediate vicinity would have felt a small jump in the ambient temperature as she jumped.

Yang turned with a curled fist at her side, wondering who was the wise guy to scare her like that. She was met with black hair, yellow eyes, and a little bow.

"Okay," Yang said with an annoyed tone as she took a breath, "how many times have I warned you about spooking me?"

Blake seemed to ignore the comment. "What's going on?"

"That's what I'm trying to get to the bottom of!"

She turned and began to surge forwards again, her temper rising again as she continued to push forwards. The crowds seemed to go from sharing a look of confusion on their faces to looks of concern. Now Yang was the one wearing her confusion on her face as she cocked her brow.

Finally, she rounded the corner to the sight of Professor Peach standing outside the door to Oobleck's class, blocking students from entering. Her long, blonde hair was a bit unkempt, not unlike Blake's, and her pink dress looked a bit distressed; she looked like she had been in a seriously stressful situation. Her arms were out, inciting the students to keep their distance. "Please, please," she said, "I'm sorry, but class is delayed for a bit, if not cancelled.

Yang turned back to meet the gaze of Blake, both of them confused by the sight before them.

 _Somebody's got to ask what's going on._

With that, Yang pushed forwards, reaching out to try to get Professor Peach's attention. "Professor," she called out. 'Professor!"

Her voice was drowned out by the rest of the din of confusion from her fellow students. Peach made no move to answer her, her attention taken up.

Yang grimaced. She pushed forwards further. "Professor Peach!"

The professor's hair seemed to move before her head did, her aqua eyes meeting Yang's violet eyes.

Yang seized the opportunity. "Professor," she asked over the din, "What's going on? Where's Oobleck?"

Peach visibly grimaced as she heard Yang's question. "Professor Oobleck has... been called up by Professor Ozpin to discuss... please, keep back! Sorry," she said as she juggled answering Yang's question. "Oobleck has been called up by Professor Ozpin to discuss the matter of your first missions; Ozpin has some concerns in regards to... your safety, knowing what's happened."

Yang swallowed hard as she retained the professor's answer. She didn't need further explanation as to 'what's happened' to know what Peach meant.

"Class is either delayed until he's back or is canceled for the day," the professor replied. "I'm sorry, Yang."

Yang only nodded. "I'll let the others know as I head back," she called out, "that might thin the herd."

"Thank you," Peach said, a tone of tire in her voice. "crowd control is a lot harder than it sounds like."

Yang nodded again and turned around, beginning to duck and weave back through the crowds back to Blake. Behind her, the frazzled professor continued her task of crowd control against the concerned student body amassed before her.

Yang's mind, however, was occupied on the idea that they may very well lose the chance at their first mission. She remembered Summer and Tai had both spoken greatly about their first mission, that it was almost a rite of passage for any and all Huntsmen. To have it delayed was a worrying prospect, and Yang couldn't deny that this was something she had been looking forwards to even more than the dance. Her first time in the field, actually ragging on real Grimm, or maybe dealing with crooks in the center of the city, or a counter offensive against bandits on one of the outlying towns. This was the first big test of her mettle under the eye of the school; now they could see her and her team for their real skill.

Now, it could very well be delayed for weeks, months, perhaps even delayed until next semester.

After a few minutes, the surge of people began heading in reverse as she informed more and more people, making her return to Blake easier. She said nothing, only pointing back in the direction of Weiss and Ruby. Blake nodded in agreement, the two of them forcing their way through on the way back to the rest of them.

"What's happening," Blake asked over the din, her voice close to Yang's ear if her volume and tone were any indicator. Yang glanced back to confirm that she was less than a foot behind her, her eyes boring into Yang.

"Oobleck's at a meeting with Ozpin," Yang replied, her brow now furrowed. "He's cancelled class."

Blake made no comment, though a levity seemed to grow across her face.

Yang made no comment, only turning to look for Weiss and Ruby.

A few minutes later, they finally found the two, still hanging out against the door of another classroom. Ruby was twiddling her thumbs as she sat on the floor, while Weiss stood at attention, her arms crossed in mild annoyance.

"Well," Weiss asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice as she walked up to them. "What's going on up there?"

"Looks like class is cancelled for today," Yang replied. "Oobleck got called up to Ozpin's office. They... they might be talking about delaying the first missions."

At that, Ruby sprang to her feet like a coiled spring, crying out, "Wait, what!?"

"They can't seriously do that," Weiss cried out.

"Not like I like the idea any more than you do," Yang replied with a sigh.

It was Ruby who immediately jumped in. "Well, look on the bright side," she said, "We have a free period at the end of classes for the day! We've got an early start to our evening!"

Yang couldn't deny that Ruby was right, in her usual way of looking at the basics. "That's true," she said, offering a small smile. "We've got the afternoon to finish up that other paper for Port, and then we can just relax for the rest of the afternoon."

Weiss looked at her with a look of befuddlement. "Who are you and what have you done with Yang Xiao Long? When have you been up to getting an essay done before the last minute?"

Yang shrugged. "I just thought maybe I'd give it a go this time around. Maybe things won't feel like a scramble anymore?"

"Your brain is what's scrambled, Yang."

Yang couldn't stop the laugh that rose from her belly and forced her to double over, Ruby joining in not a moment later.

But as she looked up, Blake had disappeared. The laugh died as quickly as it had arrived. "Blake?"

Weiss and Ruby looked up too, now confused as well. "Where'd she go," Ruby asked.

They looked up the hallway towards the dispersing crowd, wondering if she headed off to study alone or read alone. _Or maybe brood alone_ , Yang thought slightly bitterly.

About then, there was a small, dull sound, not unlike something hitting the ground. Another one, not even a half second later, and another, and another. It had started out a low beat, but Yang could hear the change in strength. To top it off, there was the tiniest quake in the ground with each tie the sound went off. It was not unlike a machine dremel hammering metal into shape, as far as Yang was concerned.

Several students rushed past the trio, tripping over themselves as if what they were headed to was beyond important. Rather than continue thundering down the hallway, though, they made a hard turn into one of the doorways leading outside of the building and vanished through it without a second's hesitation.

"What's that all about," Weiss asked.

"I don't know," Yang said as she started walking after them, "Maybe that's where Blake is?"

She didn't stop to hear either of them contradict that notion, only hearing their footfalls behind her. As she closed in on the doorway, the thundering sound increased in strength, the earth beneath her feet now shaking just enough to be openly noticeable.

Yang reached the door as her mind started pondering what was going on, throwing them open as the early afternoon sun slammed into her eyes. She squinted them shut, only for her ears to be met with the sound, now magnified and clear as day.

It sounded like marching feet.

Ruby and Weiss gasped in awe. Yang forced her eyes open. The sight she saw almost forced them even farther open.

Hundreds of Atlesian robots marched in unison through the central courtyard of Beacon, their boots striking the concrete and tiled earth with such precision that it was less a couple hundred boots and more akin to one truly gigantic boot. Beside them marched Atlesian military personnel, several squads of them walking in tandem with the robots, a relaxation to their gait. Flanking them still were several Huntsmen and Huntresses, each of them armored and armed to the teeth, an air of... Yang wanted to say "well-earned arrogance" but that gave them too much credit. All of them seemed to bear some manner of badge that announced their loyalty to the Council of Atlas, the most common seeming to be a badge over the right side of their chest, if not pendants or even a tattoo on one's arm.

The three members of Team RWBY stood in silence as they watched this military parade thunder through the center pathway through Beacon, headed into the city. Students from all of the Academies had gathered on their peripheries, some cheering with delight—obviously the Atlas Academy students—while most of the other looked on in various degrees of impress or worry. The state-sanctioned Huntsmen waved back at the crowds, placating both them and their own selves in the process, while the Knights and common Atlesian soldiery marched on in silence.

But the footfalls kept getting stronger, and they weren't coming from the group that had already passed them.

Yang couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her mouth as two— _Oh my god, two of them_ —Atlesian Paladins rounded the CCT Towers on their parade route, gleaming the same bright white they had seen weeks ago during their fight with Torchwick, albeit not dirtied with the scratches, dings and the mark of the White Fang hastily scrawled across it.

"There's more of them!?" Ruby growled angrily before she began pouting. "As if one wasn't scary enough..."

Weiss and Yang said nothing in response, only glancing at one another. Yang was greeted with a worried look on Weiss' face, though she couldn't deny that past that worry there was... hope? What was that doing there?

"Weiss," she asked, "What's up?"

"Oh," Weiss replied, "It's... uh, it's nothing to be worried about, I was just wondering if... one of my siblings was here."

Yang blinked surprise. _Seriously?_

There was a tap on her should and her train of thought was derailed before she could even think up the next sentence. She turned and saw Ruby staring off into the group of students a bit to their left.

A black bow stood out amidst the crowd.

Yang was moving in that direction before she had even thought through what she was doing. She reached into the group and tried to squeeze in, calling out, "'Scuse me, need to get through."

The second she sounded off, Blake turned to look at Yang. Where Yang had seen concern in Weiss' eyes, Blake seemed internally petrified and almost scornful, her eyes betraying her stoic face. This was something that must have struck home, though why was lost on Yang.

"You okay," Yang only offered, putting a hand on Blake's shoulder.

Blake gave no reply. She only looked back at the parade, her arms tucked over her chest in thought.

As the drums of several hundred feet rattled on, the two partners stood in silence, letting the marching beat echo across the city and into their minds.

 _ **THUMP, THUMP,**_

 _ **THUMP, THUMP,**_

 _ **THUMP, THUMP,**_

 _ **THUMP, THUMP...**_

* * *

 _Tick. Tock._

 _Tick. Tock._

 _Tick. Tock._

 _Tick. Tock._

Jacob groaned as he looked up at the clock over the auditorium. 4:10 in the afternoon.

"Of all the idiotic, hair-brained tactics I've seen in my days, Mr. Muller, that was almost as high on the list as when I let Jurgen charge my Salamander Tank into a squad of Plague Marines on Triares Secundus. I'm actually quite impressed."

Jacob rubbed his aching chest as he sat amidst the bleachers—although, in hindsight, he really considered them damn near premium stadium seating with how they were designed. "I don't know whether to say 'thank you' or grumble like a scolded brat," he said, finishing with a barking laugh. His left pectoral answered his laughter with a tinge of an ache, forcing him to rest a hand on it.

"On the one hand," came the booming, calm voice of Captain Titus—or, rather, Professor Titus as he preferred—as he walked up to Jacob and sat down beside him, "I can understand wanting to get a better idea of the opponent you seek to combat against. On the other hand, you may have very well revealed us and our plans prematurely, as well as set her sights on you."

"Better that I fight her and get my ass kicked than Mercury and Pyrrha fight and they find out about her little combat secret," he said, only to realize what he had said and spin his head around, looking in all directions for any signs of someone listening in.

"Her Semblance usage," Titus said with a nod. "I see the reasoning behind such a plan, now, but that doesn't excuse that it was too risky. Besides, how likely it is that Cinder will wear something metallic during their battle, should that battle even occur, now."

"I aim to _avoid_ that battle, Titus," Jacob groaned in annoyance. "But it doesn't hurt to play it safe should I fuck up and that fight happens anyhow."

"She still observed Pyrrha's fight against CRDL anyhow," Cain said matter-of-factly. "She does have eyes, you know."

Jacob felt an urge to retort, only to stop the words in cold turkey on his tongue. "Yeah, but still... I mean it's not like she actually got the chance to fight her... right? Watching and actually fighting aren't... the same." He ran the whole sentence through his head, only to bring his free hand up and introduce it to his face with a loud _slap_ that echoed about the room. His face stung like Hell's teeth in reply, inciting a groan.

"God, why am I so fucking stupid," he grumbled from beneath his hand.

"On the contrary," Cain replied, pacing back and forth in front of Jacob and Titus, "It was a well thought out plan that may fall apart only because we can't know for certain what info Ms. Fall may have picked up today. At worst, she knows Pyrrha's fighting style at cursory glance; at best, she's been fooled and may very well be a bit spooked. We can use that to our advantage... in theory, at least."

"Cornered animals are the most frenzied kind, Commissar," Jacob replied, straightening his back and dropping his hand from the offending pectoral. "And while Cinder is starting to be backed into a corner right now, I sincerely doubt she's gonna stay there for long. At the same time, she's backed us up too; we have to play much safer now, or risk getting caught."

"Like you were by Logan and Anders?"

Jacob only shot Cain an unamused deadpan.

"Just saying."

"Right, well, the point is that we're both now standing on a razor's edge, but I honestly imagine we're the ones who are losing balance while on that metaphorical edge."

Cain hummed aloud as he began scratching his chin. "I still don't fully understand why we do not simply reveal her and force her on the retreat. The plan is halted, the city is saved, the people are saved, Pyrrha is saved, we go on with nothing else to be concerned about."

Jacob sighed, very aware of Ciaphas' thought process. "On the one hand, you're right, it wouldn't make sense for standard strategy; capitalize on our intelligence and strike out against her, stopping the Invasion of Vale and the general threat to begin with. But... the other hand is where my eye is focused, so to speak. What happens if Cinder and Salem are not as keen on abandoning their siege, and only bloat their forces more before they engage? What happens then if, say, in that battle Ruby is killed, as well as her team?"

Cain shook his head. "Ms. Rose is a great fighter," he said in response. "she and her team would—"

Jacob hopped to his feet despite the protests of his body. "Would what, Ciaphas—sorry, Professor Cain—what would they do? We don't know what would happen under such a sudden deviance in the timeline. Perhaps Atlas and Vale and the Huntsman Corps could shore up enough defenses to hold back the Grimm, White Fang, and any of Salem's other allies... or maybe it will be paltry and everyone in the city—man, woman, child, Huntsman, Huntress, soldier, civilian, Silver Eyed Warrior or Champion Fighter of Mistral—will die and the Grimm will hold the city, destroy it, and move on to the next city unchallenged."

Jacob stood silent for a minute, watching their reactions. Neither Imperial gave anything away save for a glance to one another, apprehensive but seemingly understanding.

"I'm trying to take into consideration what I know thus far," he continued. "And I won't pretend that—no disrespect—the appearance of the men and women of the God-Emperor's flock doesn't throw a monkey wrench nerve-rackingly close to being a spanner in the works. But..." he struggled to get out what he wanted to say, his tongue now tying itself as he tried to get his thought across best. "But I have to at the very least go with the path that is most secured right now; if I follow canon and only perform small tweaks here and there, hopefully it will correct some up until the time is right for me to put my main goal front and center. I follow canon, I know what people will do; I follow canon, I know where I need to be to change things. I follow canon up until it's just right, and Pyrrha and Penny—hell, one can even dream that maybe I can body-block Amber—will live past what Miles Luna, Kerry Shawcross and Monty Oum declared to be her death-day."

They watched him closely as he began to realize he had gone off on another tirade again. He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry," he said dejectedly, "you guys shouldn't have to deal with my ramblings."

"No," Titus said standing up and placing a hand on Jacob's shoulder, "I get it. It's a safe, predictable path to traverse. You find comfort in it, know what will come to be."

Jacob let silence hold for a few seconds before he dropped his hand. "Yeah," he said quietly, "I've always struggled with winging it."

"And yet you winged that idea to engage Cinder in a duel."

"That's not the same."

"Not entirely, perhaps. But by comparison, it's something."

Jacob grimaced in response. "Comparison to who?"

"The person you were reminding me of from my days as a Captain," Titus replied. "Someone that you should have seen if that video game followed my escapades on Graia."

Jacob looked over at the Ultramarine with a disgusted look. "Really? Im really sounding like Leandros?"

"Take that as both a commendation and a condemnation in unison, Mr. Muller," Titus said, his grip tightening slightly. "Leandros may have been brash and too comfortable within the confines of what he knew, but he was of stout heart and convictions."

Jacob watched the Ultramarine Captain, unsure of what to say. At first, confusion plagued him; when the _Space Marine_ game ended and Titus had been taken into Inquisition custody, he had dropped a burn on Leandros so passively vicious that Jacob thought even Roboute Guilliman had winced at it while he was still in stasis. "Didn't you lambast him about failing to live up to the Ultramarine standard by failing to see the Codex as something more than a rulebook?"

Titus' eyes seemed distant, as if caught up in a memory. "That I did," he said quietly. "Indeed, that I did."

Jacob couldn't really tell, but by tone alone he felt as though he had struck a nerve. He shuffled uncomfortably, no speech coming from any of them.

"Right," Cain finally said as he twiddled his thumbs, "we do ourselves no favors by sitting around and being regretful of the past. I've done that far too much for my taste, anyhow."

Titus blinked, the focus returning to his eyes. "Right. Now is not the time for the past."

Jacob let out a tiny scoff. "Ironic considering that I'm trying to rectify something sorta-kinda past tense."

"For you, perhaps," Titus corrected, "but future tense for us, and for you right now as well."

"Right," Jacob said, "Time-space continuum. Under the terms of Doctor Who, I should have caused a paradox the second I put my plan into action."

"Doctor Who?"

Jacob turned to answer Cain's question, only for the answer to die in his throat. "N-nevermind. Not important. What is important is our next step."

"Indeed," Titus replied. "But, while there is our next step in regards to the plan, there's one other thing to consider; you're still horribly-trained for your weapon. What fortune, then, that it's Tuesday night, and you had a lesson in _chain_ swordsmanship with Ciaphas."

Jacob nodded. "As Tzeentch would say, all according to plan."

Titus and Cain both winced at the mention of the Chaos God, but were quick to agree. "Somehow, I doubt that was planned out," Cain replied, "but yes, quite timely. Now, let's get your Aura back to something at least mildly satisfactory in strength."

Cain reached out and grabbled Jacob's hand, reinvigorating Jacob's with a bit of his own. Once again, Jacob felt a difference in Cain's by comparison to both Ren and Pyrrha's Auras, the images coming crystal clear in his mind. _Cold, crisp snowfalls contrasted by the smell of hot tea and a pungent smell beside it that was both appalling yet familiar. A surge of fearlessness and a desire to leave that behind for greener pastures. And then, a warm bed and soft blankets, the smell of peaches, and an image; bright blue eyes and a shade of blonde hair that does and yet doesn't exist..._

Jacob didn't need to ask who that image was supposed to be. If what the books said were any indicator, Inquisitor Amberley Vail really was quite a person to remember. Meanwhile, his body began to feel reinvigorated again, his Aura spiking ferociously.

"I really need to get better at Aura stamina," Jacob sighed in annoyance.

"That will come in time," Cain replied. "There we are, we should be on equal terms, or at least as equal as our Auras can be for the moment."

"Alright, then," Jacob said with a nod. "So... how does a commissar fight with a chainsword?"

The next sound out of Cain's mouth was a bemused grunt, a sound that Jacob couldn't help but cock and eyebrow at. "Truth be told," he said to Jacob, "We need to get a few things out of the way, first. Obviously the most important piece of information is this; fighting with a chainsword is a bit different from fighting with a standard sword, obviously. You can't really jab with it, nor can you attack get a basic cut into small crooks and nannies in a person's armor. You can try, but at best they need to have it seriously open to your attack for you to get a good cleave in."

Jacob nodded. "I expected a problem like that. Really, my best bet is to treat it not unlike an axe, right?"

Cain smiled at that. "Close," he said, pointing a finger in acknowledgement, "but there's a bit more finesse behind it than you might expect... and yet not. It's hard to explain, actually, to those not familiar with seeing it."

Jacob was already a mental step ahead of him. "It depends on who's using it, right? A normal human mostly has to be fine-tuned and focused when using it, and then by contrast a Space Marine generally has the focus and control down to a science and goes and uses it in ways to let the teeth dig in, right?"

"Close, but no," Titus said. "Space Marines need some degree of finesse in using ours as well, though I do confess it's not a lot of it. However, that doesn't matter in regards to your training; last I checked, you are not an Adept in training."

Jacob returned Titus' bemused smirk with a sarcastic laugh. "Fair enough. So, what's lesson number one, gents?"

The two looked at one another before turning their gazes back on him. In unison, a single world left their mouths:

"Control."

Jacob blinked, his face concealing his confusion. "Huh?"

"Control is the greatest part of working with a chainsword," Titus said. "Without it, the weapon will go out of control and you will either go along for the ride or lose the weapon outright."

Jacob hummed and hawed with his words as he tried to come up with a sentence that wouldn't sound assanine. "Captain," he began after a good, long minute, "with all due respect, I have some degree of control over my blade by now. It hasn't exactly left my hand in... almost... 10 days of training and actual combat."

"Maybe," Cain replied, "but there's more to control than just holding onto the blade. Chainswords are by their nature not static and have their own ebb and flow in battle, just as axes and hammers do by comparison to normal swords."

Jacob had presumed something like that from day one, but how that was might as well have been with Leman Russ in the Warp with how unknown it was to him. "So, in that case," he said, clasping his hands nervously and fighting an urge to fidget with a tag or something, "What kind of flow are we talking here?"

Cain said nothing, instead walking around Jacob towards the bleachers. Down on the ground beneath the edge of the bleachers' wall was a case, probably plastic or metal as far as Jacob could tell, and it was a sizeable case at that. Cain kneeled down and undid the clasps on the case, an audible pop resonating from each clasp opened. He flipped open the case and reached in, Jacob unable to see what exactly it was.

When Cain turned around, Jacob felt his stomach clench up as a chainsword entered his line of sight, encased in gold, silver and crimson red and etched elaborately.

"I'll show you how it's done," Cain said, removing his Atlesian officer coat. "Pick up Cadia, Mr. Muller, it's time for lesson number one."

Jacob swallowed hard as he remembered back to _Traitor's Hand_ and a myriad of other quotes from people about Cain's chainswordsmanship. This was going to make him feel very inadequate.

The two made their way to the stage and took spots about 15 feet from one another. It was small, but then again this was a simple practice fight. Jacob tensed up but didn't bring Cadia up to his chest, instead keeping it at his side. Cain, by contrast, seemed limber and loose, albeit perhaps a bit rusty as he seemed to gather his bearings. Overhead, the lights remained on rather than dimming to stadium level, and the ring didn't raise those two or so feet it usually did.

"Take a swing," Cain said.

The first word to enter Jacob's mind was the simple word 'trap'. Really, that was what he said was; a training exercise no different from a drill sergeant kicking a recruit's ass to breaking him down to basics... right?

"Come on," Cain said patiently, "Show me what you've got. Take a swing."

Jacob licked his lips and feathered the engine, Cadia purring in response. He stepped forwards hesitantly once, then twice, then a third one.

Cain rolled his eyes. "What, you stare down a Fall Maiden and now you're getting cold feet? Come on, man, show me that Terran fury!"

Jacob didn't hesitate now. He took a bolting step forwards as he gunned the engine, swinging hesitantly for Cain's chest.

Ciaphas didn't hesitate to swing, plunging his sword across his torso and deflecting Jacob's swing. Jacob felt the connection throw his step off, making him stumble aside and almost hit the ground. Cain made no return attack, dodging out of the way instead with a spin.

Jacob hit the ground on a knee, whipping about less than a second later to leap up and into Cain. He brought the chainsword around for another attack, but a backhanded slash from Cain stopped the blade in its tracks. Jacob reeled backwards, stopping himself as he assessed is situation. "Let me guess," he began, "'Stop trying to hit me and hit me'?"

"I was actually going to say 'good effort', but that too."

Jacob lunged again, going low, only to scramble out of the way as Ciaphas brought the sword down over his head. He couldn't clear and felt just how chainsword teeth felt against Aura; a sharp streak of pain that followed the blade's path up the back of his head. He couldn't help but let out a yelp of surprise and pain.

"You went Khornate there, Mr. Muller," Cain said overhead. "You bit off more than you could chew and you kept getting too aggressive."

Jacob couldn't see, but he was not surprised when he felt something metal tap his shoulder. He yanked his head up off the ground and was met with the teeth of Cain's chainsword, glaring coyly at him in the auditorium light.

"Balance is the key for a chainsword," Cain said. "Powerful strikes are good, yes, but you cannot throw yourself into an attack wildly. While Huntsmen fighting styles are indeed more aggressive, it suits you better to take a more cautious aggression to your every attack."

"Cautious aggression," Jacob said in confusion. "We talking about dodging about and striking at openings or something?"

"Not even close," Cain said as he eased his grip and the teeth retreated away from Jacob's face. Jacob looked forwards at Cain's legs, wondering if he could wheel about and kick them out if they were still sparring. "That's a good thing to keep in mind," Cain said, "considering that you don't really seem to have the strength."

"Oh, come on," Jacob replied, "I've got a lot more upper body strength since I left from home. I struggled to barely lift sixty pounds in total, now I can at least get forty or fifty with not nearly as much difficulty."

"Raw strength does great for a chainsword," Cain replied, "but it's the strength of your grip and your control over the blade that means a lot. When you fought Cinder, I noticed that you used only one arm for almost every attack outside of when you were straddling her. Then you used two hands, but that was when you had the advantage that she was working against gravity. With both of you standing, she could have easily gotten the better of you even if you locked your wrists up."

"So, then I need to lock my wrist?"

Cain shook his head. "That would only make things worse as you wrench your arm if they deflect the attack. Keep it loose, but keep it in control, that's what I'm trying to say."

Jacob rattled that about in his head as he returned to his feet. _Loose but in control... how the blood-soaked, Protestant Hell..._ He shook his head as he tried to make sense of the sentence.

His confusion was visible enough that Cain grimaced, not in annoyance but more in expectancy. "The massive, blade-levered cleaves should only be when their guard is down," he said patiently. "You need to be limber in your arm and focus on using the strength in your shoulder to make that opening in the meantime."

Now it was starting to click. "Open with small slashes and jabs," he deduced, "and keep on the backburner to throw them off. Then, when the opening appears, let slip the blade into their side, or wherever."

Titus laughed from the seats up above. "Now you're getting it!"

Jacob nodded. "But that's not all, is it?"

Cain smirked. "One step at a time, Jacob. Come, let's try getting that mindset down, shall we?"

Jacob nodded, letting out a deep breath as he spun Cadia, revving her engine cautiously. This time, he took cautious steps towards Cain, feathering the chainsword's trigger delicately, getting a light purr in response. Cain, by contrast, stood almost as a monolith, his finger on the trigger but the engine making no sound.

Jacob stepped in closer, and Cain raised his blade, the engine growling to life. It was almost as if they were to duel with rapiers with how they were at this point.

Ciaphas stepped forwards and swung to the side, a small gesture that still translated into a very wide strike. Jacob braced his shoulder and blocked the swing, his chainsword taking the brunt of the swing. Without a second's hesitation, he pushed back, but Cain had a lot more arm strength than he did, and the blade only seemed to fall back a few inches. In the back of his mind, Jacob thought up a quick movement, instead rolling beneath the blade and swiping into his side. Cain had no time to block, but he did make two steps back.

Cain smiled. "Not the lesson we were going for," he commented, "but that was clever. Well done, Jacob."

Jacob let his guard drop as he let out an embarrassed wince. "Sorry," he said, "force of habit."

"No, no, don't be sorry," he replied. "That was actually a good thing to try and do. If there was one thing that Titus said you do well, it's that you use your stature to your advantage."

"Being short has its benefits as well as its setbacks," Jacob replied. "But still, back to strength."

Cain nodded. He brought his chainsword up again, ready to riposte another attack. Jacob approached again, this time less hesitant than before. He batted Cain's blade aside, jabbing inwards, only to be threatened with a slice at his head. He ducked back as Cain pushed in with a counterattack, swiping for his chest in a crucifix path. Jacob couldn't duck back, so instead he brought Cadia up, swinging with his shoulder to block the attack.

Sadly, it didn't do nearly as well as it should have. Cain's chainsword connected with Cadia, but the inertia the former commissar connected with was enough to force his arm to buckle, Cain's swing stopping in the patch of Aura over Jacob's arm. Jacob wheeled on his feet and almost tumbled over, clutching his arm as it rang out with pain.

Cain hummed in thought. "Normally, that would have been fairly blockable," he said, scratching his side burns. "Perhaps... Hmm, I'm really at a loss, actually."

"Maybe you're stronger than you think?"

Cain shook his head. "I'm not that much stronger than most," he replied. "Then again, you are kind of... well..."

Jacob nodded. "Yeah, that would explain it a lot," he said. "All my strength's in my shoulders and back, not my arm proper."

"And yet you got several good blows in, including that one at the restaurant."

"Does that really count, though? She didn't have an Aura."

"Counts to me," Cain said. "Not every fight is going to be squeaky clean and bloodless."

"Yeah, well, obviously," Jacob replied, "but outside of Grimm, I doubt most of our opponents are gonna be Aura-less."

Cain stepped forwards, revving his chainsword. "Then let's keep at it so you _can_ go up against someone with Aura. Now, land a blow on me and don't get hit in turn."

So, it began. And they fought.

"Again."

And they fought.

"Again."

And they fought.

"Again."

And he kept falling ass-first onto the auditorium, Cain knocking him over with a good swing that hardly seemed to nick him, but still sent him back a few steps, if not on his ass.

All the while, Jacob's mind kept growling at his failure, some part of him losing heart quickly. Eventually, he looked up at the clock. 4:47 now. He had been getting his ass kicked for some twenty minutes now.

Jacob's body was aching from all of the strikes on his body, but the worst feeling was the exhaustion in his system. His brow was drenched in sweat, and his breathing was getting a bit laborious despite his Aura enhanced body. At this point, he would have normally tapped out by now.

Cain was also looking tired, but Jacob had yet to land a good strike on him. Sure a few nicks here or there, but there was a damned good reason Ciaphas Cain was named the greatest chainswordsman in the Commissariat, if not the entire Imperium. He was fast and strong, not necessarily nimble but his every strike was controlled and powerful in its own right, but never did he strike with the same intent that Jacob had with his strikes. It was as if he was corralling Jacob into a kill box with each swing, only to follow up with another that would knock him off his feet.

Jacob slowly stood up, groaning in aggravation and pain.

Cain nodded. "You have the heart of a Guardsman, or better yet an Imperial Fist," he said. "Most would give up by now."

Jacob nodded, shaking his head like a dog's. "If it's to save Pyrrha... I can do this all day." With that, he spun Cadia again, making the Obi-Wan opening pose again.

Cain smirked. "That's a new pose. Let's see if it works." With that, he lunged forwards, a horizontal slash in the works.

Jacob grimaced as he spun Cadia and countered with a spinning downwards slice, catching Cain's blade in the teeth of Cadia and sending it down to the ground. Cain tried to throw an elbow into Jacob's face, only for Jacob to pull back and spin to slice into his side, only for Cain to swipe up and knock it out of the way. Jacob was pulled along for the ride as Cain jabbed forwards, only for Jacob to fall towards and to the side, swinging to hit. This time, Cain didn't get his blade up in time as Cadia caught him in his tricep.

He felt a connection, and it was solid. Cain roared in surprise, wheeling back at the attack making impact.

The two sat in silence for a second, the air tense. Then, Cain smiled slightly. "Well done, Jacob. The first good strike on me in a spar in a while."

Jacob, however, was racing and roaring with surprise. _I did it,_ he thought in exuberance. _I got a hit on Ciaphas Cain with a chainsword. I hit Ciaphas Cain with a chainsword!_

He stumbled off his feet, landing on his ass with an 'oof' before breaking out in a small laugh. "I can't believe I just did that. Then again, we're both pretty damn tired by now."

Cain laughed. "If you're tired by a half hour of combat, then I have some very bad news for you."

Jacob's smile dropped off. "Don't remind me. I doubt it's gonna be a one-and-done fight anyhow."

Cain hummed in agreement "Battle proper is not something that is done in a single quick flurry of battle. Sure, the peaks are fast and energetic, but a battle usually lasts for hours if not days on end."

"Terra had its fair share of wars and battles long before The Emperor stepped into the spotlight," Jacob replied back. "Waterloo, Thermopylae, Bull Run, The Somme, Iwo Jima, Hastings, the list goes on and on for—at least from what I was able to research—around 3000 years give or take a century."

Titus walked up to them from the bleachers, a curious look in his eyes. "With names like that," he replied, "I suddenly wonder how much of our cultures were inspired by your time's cultures."

"Past and ancient cultures alike, as well as fictional" Jacob said. "Each world in the Imperium is either some way a bit of a homogenous distillation or some breed of hybrid. Macragge is usually depicted as the Roman Empire in Space, Cadia is is the movie _Starship Troopers_ but fighting demons rather than bugs, the White Scars homeworld of Chogoris are the Mongolian steppes of Genghis Khan. Only one we haven't actually seen as a world is Feudal Japan with its samurai and bushido and pagoda designs. Well, either them or something Mesoamerican despite the Crimson Fists hitting the Latino bell pretty solidly."

"Actually," Titus replied, "There is that one Chapter that fits that first description, the Emperor's Shadows Chapter from the Omotagari System in Segmentum Tempestus."

"Funny," Cain said afterwards, Jacob spotting him hooking his blade to his belt, "I was just thinking of them when I remembered Jurgen and I's encounter with them about 40 years before Abaddon's Black Crusade hit."

Titus' brow furrowed. "I don't think I've ever encountered them, but the Ultramarines had a few encounters. But I don't think I've ever heard this story before."

Cain turned to look at Jacob with a curious look in his eye. "By chance," he asked, "did they ever write anything about that?"

Jacob looked back in his memory for all the titles he knew from Ciaphas Cain's novel series. After about two seconds, Jacob shrugged and replied," not a clue, honestly. You've got a lot of books about you, but the ones I know do exist only have one Space Marine Chapter that you've encountered, and they're the... Oh Jesus, what were they called again... Revilers? Redemptors? Re-something, re-something, but what—"

"Oh," Cain said with a snap of his fingers. "the Reclaimers! One of the few Iron Hands successors out there, if I understand. So, if that's the only one that's been in a book, then you probably don't know the details of the Shadows either."

Jacob shrugged. "Sounds like a fun story, but first... let me get something to drink on the bleachers," he said, pointing to his mug sitting on the nearest seat." With that, he shrugged his shoulders and began walking over, his mind still a buzz with everything that had happened so far. On the one hand, he had failed to beat Cinder in a fight; that was something he was well and sure would have happened anyhow, so no real loss there. Also, he had been thoroughly waxed by Commissar Cain the last few minutes or so, but he did get that final strike off.

And on top of that, Cinder was none the wiser of Pyrrha's Semblance. Another boon should Pyrrha be forced to confront her... not that he was going to let that come to be, but it never hurt to play it safe.

He reached the bleachers and grabbed his drink, popping the cap off an upturning the steel cup with aplomb as the cool water came thundering down his throat. It was enough to give him a jolt from the raw cold since the room was still well-heated by the summer sun outside.

With a shake of his head to let the water pour onto his head, he righted it and set it down, a content smile on his face as he realized that despite the ass-kickings, he'd done pretty good today.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something flicker. His eye darted to it.

The tiniest bit of red fabric stuck out from one of the main doorways into the auditorium for but a millisecond before disappearing behind the plaster and concrete walls.

Jacob's stomach twitched with the urge to hitch in surprise as the smile dropped from his face. Only three people he knew had red fabric as part of their outfits, and none of them were necessarily good people to have listened in on their conversations or watched their sparring.

"Jacob," called out Titus with a laugh peppered in his words, "Come on, you need to hear of this! I think it will give you a good laugh."

Jacob nodded as he watched the doorframe, hoping to spot whoever it was. Nothing for a solid five seconds.

He turned his body, but his head and eyes kept trained on the spot until his neck could twist no more and his eyes couldn't stay on it. "Sorry," he replied, "thought I saw something. Now, what was this about Samurai Space Marines?"

* * *

For several minutes she sat in silence, able to hear the mumbling of the two men and their ward as they talked of something she couldn't quite discern. Stealth was not something she was accustomed to, but she was at least concealed by the structure of the building.

Eventually, their voices picked up. "Alright," she heard Jacob say aloud, "I kinda wanna go for one more round before we head off for dinner. Cain?"

"I'd be delighted," said the Professor. "I've been wanting to use Valhalla for quite some time now, and I've been having too much fun to quit now."

Pyrrha sat holding her breath and holding back a giggle from her hiding spot, a great big smile across her face. She didn't want to ruin his big moment, though she would no doubt talk to him about it later.

She had watched the entire thing from the same area her uncle had with Professor Cain, and she had more fun watching his fight with Cain than his fight with Cinder by leagues. Sure, the former had been more visceral, more passionate, but here... here he was starting to make progress. Bit by bit as she watched him, his form was getting better with each time he stood up, his strikes slightly surer with each time he swung, his swings becoming more strategic and each block he made slightly more successful in its intent. Now, granted, he had a long way to go before he could really do well in a one-on-one, but... something told her that Cain was perhaps a better teacher for him than she was; Afterall, she was a student, he was a Professor at Atlas Academy, and actually had history with a chainsword, whereas she was versed in the way of spears, shields and standard swords.

And as much as she enjoyed teaching him, training with him and Jaune almost every night for the past four months... she was happy that someone could teach him properly in how his weapon worked.

Her Scroll buzzed. She scrambled to grab it to silence it, walking away and out towards the exit doors, trying to stay hidden.

On the screen, the single word "MOM" blared at her in big black letters.

She smiled as she exited the building, the sound of chainswords revving once again as she walked out into the day, passing a few Atlesian soldiers. With a quick tap, she answered the call. "Hi, Mom!"

" _Hi, honey! How have you been? I haven't heard from you in a week!"_

Pyrrha giggled a bit. "I'm fine, Mother," she replied. "I've just been a bit busy with schoolwork and practice, that's all."

" _Well, that's good to hear. By chance, has your father called you yet?"_

Pyrrha's brow rose up in confusion. "No, actually," she replied. "Why do you ask? I thought he was on a mission from Headmaster Lionheart?"

" _He called me just a bit ago to let me know he's coming home... and then we have a surprise for you."_

Pyrrha was quick to start figuring out what she meant by that "Oh?"

" _Well, we felt like maybe you should have some support from family as well as your friends when the Vytal Tournament starts up, soo... have two tickets for a flight out to Vale in a week's time."_

Pyrrha gasped in excitement. "Oh my gods," she said, holding her chest. "You're coming here?!"

" _We thought about keeping it a secret, but we couldn't wait to tell you. Your father should call you either sometime in the next few hours if not tomorrow with the same news; he's out on the borders right now, so his reception's a bit spotty."_

Pyrrha almost squealed with delight. "I can't wait to have you guys here. I think you're going to like my teammates a lot."

" _Oh, I have no doubt of that. I'm actually looking quite forwards to meeting the boy whose stolen my little girl's heart."_

Pyrrha felt a blush. "Mother, please... he doesn't even know that I like him that much."

" _Well, then. Perhaps we'll have to rectify that. And this Jacob boy sounds like he will be interesting to meet, especially if he's training under your tutelage."_

Pyrrha laughed. "Actually, he might not be training with me as much anymore; Professor Cain is here and he's offering him some training with his chainsaw-sword."

" _Oh, Ciaphas is there! I didn't even know! Anyone else?"_

Pyrrha giggled. "Uncle Titus and the rest of Team VLAT, as well as the Lysanders."

" _Oh, really now? And he didn't even bother to let us know he was there. I might have some words with him when we get there, if not over the Scroll._ "

Both of them shared a laugh through her Scroll. "Well, it will be fantastic to have you guys here. I can't wait."

" _Neither can we, Sweetie. Your father has been looking forwards to some quality time with us for a while now. But I'll let you go; I imagine it's dinner time in Vale."_

"And it's midnight in Argus," Pyrrha replied with a giggle.

" _I know that perfectly well, Pyrrha. Anyway, I'll let you go so you can go and eat. Have a good day, my little Angel."_

Pyrrha blushed again. "Love you too, Mom. Bye."

And with that, the connection ended and Pyrrha was left alone in the central courtyard, bouncing with glee. Her parents were coming to the Vytal Festival! Her friend had finally found the perfect teacher! She had qualified for the Festival with her team!

And maybe—hell, more than likely—she was head over heels in love with her partner and team leader, Jaune Arc.

At this point, nothing could possibly go wrong?

* * *

 **Damnit, Pyrrha, you just had to think that. Well, at least the episode ended with a nice pretty pink bow despite all the other things going on. Atlas is already stepping up their presence in the city before the Breach even happens, Cinder is more than onto Jacob even if she doesn't know what he knows, and now Jacob has begun changing things. How does this all go down?**

 **Tune in next time to find out; same RWBYHammer time, same RWBYHammer place!**

 **As usual, please send me any replies about the story, I really enjoy what you all have to say, especially any reviews or critiques so I can keep improving with each chapter. Any favorites or follows are greatly appreciated and I hope to see you all... in the next Chapter. Bye~!**

 **EDIT: Changed the name of the city Pyrrha's from due to (potential) revelations from the Volume 6 Preview at NYCC.**


	29. Bearing Your Soul

**Admittedly, this Chapter is a bit shorter than normal (1000 words or so) but I admit I've been wanting to actually get to the bloody major battles sooner rather than later. Still, some smaller stuff happens here, though it is a bit slower a chapter. Hope you guys still like it!**

* * *

 **Chapter 29: Bearing your Soul**

 _It is a strange thing that we mortal men do, that we should bear our hearts to one another in desperation to both save they who listen from our follies and save ourselves from our loneliness. —Unknown_

* * *

The room was dark, save for a few pinpricks of light that shone through the tiniest of holes in the shutters of the room. Late afternoon light stared into the lights at an angle that placed their projections on floor just at the base of the window sill. No other light was allowed in at the moment, blocked out as she sat on her Beacon-issued bed, her mind slow but sharp as she lulled herself into her thoughts. Her legs were crossed before her lap, her hands also there as she began her methodical deep breathing. Her eyes began to lull close as she sank deeper into her own mind.

She felt the heat lick at the inside of her chest. She grimaced in annoyance. _Gods damn this fire,_ Cinder thought to herself. _When will it just accept and submit to me?_

She sat in quiet meditation, the fire within her gnawing again. Oh, how that damnable fire gnawed at her at the worst times. Sure, meditation was not a priority, but even after her ascension it never hurt to do some at the very least. Meditation gave you focus, gave you clarity, made you stronger. Not that she needed to be any stronger, but it never hurt to widen the gap. Besides, there was still the biggest threat out there, currently watching over the school from his black and emerald tower high above them.

Cinder hated having others look down on her, in any semblance of the concept. It didn't befit her status, considering the power she held. Only one truly held a greater power over her, and it was often that Cinder entertained questions of how long would that power remain in Salem's grasp. She wouldn't go out of her way to weaken Salem, of that there was a certainty; they had a much bigger and much more important enemy to attend to in Ozpin and the Kingdoms. She was not one to charge blindly into her plans of power-plays, though she could if there was no choice in the matter. But now, now there was no need for power plays or scheming against her benefactor. It did neither any favors.

And then there was her mentor. She smiled as she unconsciously took upon his guidance in her meditations; where the normal breed of meditation that a Mistrali native might take upon themselves, balance was key to everything, including power, the balance of the power itself and the wielder to make it strong, as the old priests that once lived in the mountains overlooking Mistral proper and the villages surrounding it would say.

But he preached to her of ironclad meditations. Of balancing oneself to hold dominion over the power itself. Never letting one's self become weak, lest the power become too great to control, and it in turn would consume the wielder. Power was not one to be gained by force of arms, but to be forceful of will, to make others give it to you, willingly or not in their case.

Her eyes closed as the fire rose again, defying her. Her mind focused less on the flame itself and more on the image of her own being, a shadow of herself clad in the glow of her Aura as she encircled the flame. The flame sat within her shape, it was not before her or apart of her, and yet it was; it was no different from any weapon and their Huntsman wielder. It was hers to command, and without its wielder, the powers of the Fall Maiden could do nothing. No avatar to wield its power, it had no power over the domains of the world. It needed her far more than she needed it.

The flame batted against the idea, roaring defiantly in response. It was nothing more than a petulant tantrum as far as she was concerned, not worth her time and energy despite the bonfire that it tried to become.

Her body was physically reacting now. Sweat poured from her body in every corner, the flames licking everywhere, even trying to play dirty and light a fire even in her southern half. She only snickered in delighted contempt; how pathetic a thing that it must try something like that.

In her mind, the great claw reappeared over Cinder's shadow, but rather than closing in on her, it moved slowly across her head, the palm touching the crown of her head rather than the claws, brushing the top of her head delicately, as if she were made of china. A pet of endearment, less like a dog and more like a child.

Her mentor; a father he may not have been by any traditional sense of the phrase, but he was wise and kind and showed her the meaning of true strength. His training of her was fierce and dangerous, but even for a man like him it had been so strange how much he pushed her to do better, not of contempt, but... because he saw in her what she saw in her.

The capacity to become something new, something beyond the normal confines of Man.

The flame was crushed in the great claw, but the heat did not extinguish. Instead, as the claw left, the flame was now tiny, uniform and symmetrical in its patterns. Balanced, in her control by her will and her desire to control it.

She smiled wickedly. "In my reforging, I grow ever stronger."

She sat in silence as the image continued, and the heat became naught but a tiny flicker in her bosom.

There was a knock at the door.

She took a breath as she came down from her meditations. "Enter."

The door opened and in spilled the light of the hallway. Green hair and ebony skin met her as the light assaulted her eyes.

"Oh," Emerald squeaked in a tone befitting one who had stumbled upon something intimate. "I'm sorry, did I interrupt your meditations?"

Cinder smiled at the subservient girl, her amber orbs alight with fire as they met with the red irises of her lackey. Had Cinder not been busy with the plan, perhaps she would entertain the very obvious desires that ran in Emerald's head. It would certainly keep the girl under her thumb with ease. Perhaps the same could apply to Mercury should he show some vestige of interest. "On the contrary," Cinder replied, "you arrived just as I finished. I take it things were productive?"

Emerald sighed as she closed the door behind her, flipping the overhead lights on. "Relatively," she replied. "I was able to get in contact with Roman over the CCT sub-channels. He's saying that already everything from the White Fang is in place and they're just waiting for Eliphas' group to arrive. On top of that, two more members of the Eightfold Path have arrived at the camp."

Cinder smiled. "Do tell."

"One goes by some geeky name—Nemerock or Nemesis or something—"

"Nemeroth," Cinder said with a nod. "Good, good, I didn't think he would come. He has a ridiculously grandiose ego, but he's served the Eightfold Path with distinction in the past, especially beside Eliphas. He'll serve our needs quite well. And what of the other?"

"All Roman said was that he refused to give his name. Only thing he could describe was... _eugh_ , a bandolier of _skulls_ and a chainsaw-axe. Said he's in red armor and he's got a badge like two sets of teeth eating a green and blue marble."

Cinder's smile grew even wider. "Oh, that is delicious," she said with a chuckle. "I thought he had been off in Vacuo hunting down some of the other Inquisition members."

"Must be ahead of schedule, I guess."

Cinder smiled as she stood up and stretched, letting Emerald take in her stretched, curvy form as she opened the blinds behind her. "Of that, I have no doubt. Excellent. Inform Roman when you can that he should treat our guests to some opportunities on the edge of the city. They have cultist members who will no doubt be coming with them, and they all have the right to stretch their legs and get some practice in for the big night."

Emerald seemed a bit perturbed by the idea—it was the glint in her eyes, Cinder deduced—but she nodded resolutely. "I'll send him a message right now. Anything else?"

"Considering the Dance has been moved later to a week or two from now, we will want to look into alternative routes into the CCT Tower. With Ironwood's forces mulling about, there's little doubt that we can't sneak in as we planned."

Emerald frowned in disappointment. "What's our next move, then?"

Cinder held up a hand. "Patience, Emerald. An opportunity will present itself before the Dance, I have no doubt of that. And even if that were not to happen, Watts' virus works fast enough that a week won't matter. Well, at least according to him."

Emerald's frown didn't leave. "I don't know, Cinder, that's a big part of the plan. Shouldn't we try to—"

"Uh-uh-uh," Cinder interrupted, raising a finger. "Remember what I told you?"

Emerald's comment died in her throat, her eyes navigating towards the ground in shame, as if she were a scolded puppy. "'Don't think,'" she repeated. "'Obey.' I'm sorry, Cinder."

"Don't worry about that, Emerald. Your concern is valid. But I have some ideas in mind. "

"Understood. Anything more I should take care of?"

Cinder's mind wheeled through things before her mind found itself reliving the fight with Muller the previous day. It was quite something in all honesty, purely a spar to show how even when she handicapped herself, she could wipe the floor with anyone. Granted, had she fought Ms. Nikos, that would have truly been a test of skill, but regardless it had been nice to let her hounds of war slip for a few minutes, lest she get rusty.

"Do we have anything new on Mr. Muller," she asked. "His ties to the Inquisition do put our plans into view of Ozpin."

"Well," Emerald said, "I followed him to the auditorium about an hour after class. He's starting tutoring with Professor Ultramar and Professor Cain."

Cinder's smile never changed in strength, only in tone. "Really? Tutoring for what?"

"Looks like swordsmanship with his chainsaw-sword."

Cinder nodded. "How interesting. He's actually trying to get better after that."

"You think he's onto us?"

"I think he has a notion, but I doubt he has any true idea of what he's dealing with."

"Should I have Mercury keep close?"

Cinder shook her head. "He won't hamper our plans. I sincerely doubt it, at least. Still, perhaps it would be wise to keep an eye on him in case he does get too close."

"Got it," Emerald said with a nod. She turned to go, but Cinder had one last thing to say.

"Emerald," she began, letting her voice become sultry in tone. "You've done wonderfully for our cause, and for me as well."

Emerald seemed to blush a small bit. "You've done a lot for me, Cinder," she replied. "It's the least I can do."

"Perhaps, but perhaps not as well. Keep up this pace... and I will see to it you are rewarded... _greatly."_ A single hand traced her leg seductively.

The blush became bright, as if her face would become a neon sign. "O-of course, Cinder. As you wish." And with that, she disappeared though the door with urgent speed, as if her life—or her libido—depended on her haste.

Cinder smiled devilishly as she thought over how much Mercury and Emerald made this easier. Then again, having been a part of something other than Salem's faction had left her open to not needing them. Still, it was definitely nice.

She reached into the pocket of her vest and produced a pendant, one that was near and dear to her. A star of eight points set inside a circle, the bottom point longer than the rest.

"Recast and reborn."

* * *

" _...And the Wolves obliged him. In their ignorance, as tragic as our own, they fell upon us. Even now, I do not hate the Wolves. Their only sin was to be betrayed by those they trusted. In that more innocent age, they had no reason to doubt the First Warmaster's words."_

"A Thousand Sons veteran of Prospero who doesn't hate the Wolves. That's about as unlikely as Disney releasing _Song of the South_ on DVD."

Jacob's eyes continued to follow the pages, his interest piqued by the first 65 pages before this one. The mid-evening light made for a soft glow over his pages, avoiding the hassles of streaks of shadow as he would have gotten had he began reading these in the morning.

Speaking of _Song of the South,_ his phone's music selection changed again, this time becoming the soft tones of a big-band type composition playing _That's What Uncle Remus Said_ as he read on. Without even thinking about it, his head began to bob to the music, and the faintest whispers of a hum escaped his sealed lips in tune to the music. His left foot began to tap as it hung in the air, slung over his right knee as he reclined back on his half-made bed. Considering everything else, the bed and the tidiness of his room had begun to falter as he fell back on old habits, his day focused on keeping appearances with the professors and also preparing for the Vytal Tournament, as well as what came before and what came after it. As far as he was concerned, it was very unlikely that after that night that he would return to that room unless it was to retrieve things he missed.

But that didn't stop him from taking a little bit to unwind by himself. Granted, the book now in his hands would have made the Imperials balk in surprise and worry of his allegiances.

Once again, his backpack had spit out another couple books; at this point, he was wondering if he should look down the main compartment and try to see if there was a portal back home, maybe grab a few extra firearms from home before he came back, or maybe grab something more classical to read from his bookshelf in his bedroom. Alas, for now, he had been gifted with another two books from the Black Library that were not even part of his collection. The first was in his hands right now, _The_ _Talon of Horus_ , and when it and its sequel _Black Legion_ had been pulled from his backpack, he had almost dropped them as if they were possessed, some part of his mind acting on the thought that the real deals of Warhammer were here at this juncture; suddenly having Chaos-y things manifest made him wonder if he should ask Inquisitor Spinoza—or as she kept saying to him _Professor_ Spinoza, six of one, half dozen or another—if she could teach him how to pray to the Emperor. Then another part of him reached for his Bible, some part of him hoping speaking scripture of the Gospel would keep the demons at bay. At the end of the 2-minute minor freak out he decided to leave the books there with the other two books that had left the bag; His old standby reads of _Jurassic Park_ and _The Lost World._ Those two he was glad to see once again, the massive hardback of the second and small softback of the first bringing back memories of reading it on his elementary school playground out of boredom when his only friends were elsewhere.

"… _Perhaps I was just lonely aboard my ghost ship—surrounded by the ashen dead too mind-scourged to recall our past together—and saw a last chance to fight alongside kindred who deserved my trust. Perhaps the resurrection of Horus was an abomination I could neither tolerate nor risk._

 _Perhaps I just wanted the Nine Legions' flagship for myself."_

Jacob scoffed to himself. Typical Traitor Legions. Considering the opportunity to backstab one another at the first sign of advancing up the ranks. And yet he was still intrigued. This was something different from what he had thought of in regards to the Chaos Legions. On the one hand, he knew about the fractures of the World Eaters and the Alpha Legion and knew that at least Ahriman had gone flying solo after his little stunt with the Rubric. On the other hand, he thought that the others had remained relatively unified in the aftermath of the Heresy. Word Bearers, the Emperor's Children, the rest of the Thousand Sons, even the Sons of Horus. Seeing that the Sons of Horus on the knife's edge of extinction had raised a metaphorical brow on his forehead; how could the Black Legion—a Chaos force millions of Astartes strong according to some—have gone from a nearly dead Legion to being that? He didn't exactly read the Chaos Marine codex in much detail, but he knew that the Black Legion had been descended from the Sons of Horus. What filled in that massive disconnect?

He was realizing just how much like the Imperials he really was; he knew jack and shit about the Traitors, and the Traitors were here on Remnant. Perhaps this book would help with getting mentally ahead of the game before they could come about and bite his ass.

That is if he could get through it before the Breach or the Battle of Beacon.

His Scroll buzzed in earnest beside his phone, the two a practical yin and yang in design, his black and angular phone beside his bright-white and round-edged future-tech. He reached over and opened the thing as it buzzed again; a call. It was a number that said "[REDACTED]".

Now it was time for his brow to really raise rather than metaphorically so. "Hello," he asked as he answered it.

" _Hi, Jacob,"_ replied the singsong voice of Penny.

He couldn't stop the smile that crossed his face as he stored that title and number away for reference. "Hey, Penny. What's up?"

She didn't respond at first, only then saying, _"Uh, not a lot at this current moment. I just finished charging all weapon systems and recalibrating my internal software firewalls."_

Jacob was already fully aware she wanted to at least talk, but he doubted that was the only thing. "Okay," he said, "but you wouldn't call me just for the sake of giving me an intelligence report on your systems."

" _That's not true,"_ she replied, _"My software has been able to detect several viruses bouncing around the CCT Network, despite the current lack of Cinder Fall's interaction with the network."_

Jacob hissed at the mention of Cinder's name as he worried that she had managed to bug their systems; it wasn't likely, but it was always a possibility. "Uh, Penny..."

She was silent before she made a sound of realization, " _Ohhh,_ " she said slowly. " _Oopsies._ "

He set the book down, Abaddon the Despoiler staring back at him with a roar in two dimensions. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he soon replied," It's alright, Penny. I'm inclined to agree with your sentiment. It's not likely they do have access yet, or we would have seen the signs. Not like in the show it wasn't visible from high fucking orbit."

" _I doubt that someone that high in altitude would be able to see a computer virus in action,"_ she said in response.

The slap that resulted from Jacob introducing his palm to his face was apparently quite audible. " _Are you okay? I heard a slapping sound."_

"Figure of speech, Penny," he said calmly. "Anyway, we'll act when something comes along; if we attempt to act prematurely, we might bring people's attention to us and then the whole plan goes down the metaphorical trash."

" _You keep saying that,"_ she said analytically, " _to both me and the Imperials."_

"Half the time it's me reminding them and you and the other half is me reminding myself. Anyway, back to the subject at hand; you didn't just call for a diagnostic on the plan, did you?"

Penny was silent for a few seconds. " _Well..._ "

"Come on, Penny," he said, "we're friends here, tell me the truth."

" _...I did want to see more motion pictures from your home. I was interested in some of the ones I saw in your data files: There's_ _the rest of the_ Star Wars _movies, something called_ The Last... Sam-ur-ai," she said, struggling with the pronunciation of 'samurai' by giving it an 'E' sound at the end rather than an 'I', " _and that one film named... Jura—uh, J-U-R-R-A-S—"_

"It's pronounced 'Jurassic,' Penny. It's a time period in Earth's prehistory, back when dinosaurs existed," he said, only realizing too late that they probably didn't have paleontology on Remnant out of the fact that it was probably suicide to go searching for fossils outside the Kingdoms, as well as with the existence of magic and gods this was a very real case of "Young Earth"; ergo, no fossils.

" _Prehistory? Dinosaurs?"_

"Stuff that happened before recorded history," Jacob clarified. "I'll explain it better when I get over there."

" _Okay then! I'll be waiting at the pond, under the oak tree. See you there!_ "

And at that, the call ended, leaving Jacob bemusedly exasperated. He began to pack up for the walk over to their meeting place, scooping up his backpack and slid his books into the camo-patterned pack. With a hoist of the offending pack onto his back, he glanced down at his watch. 6:05 in the evening, and nothing else he was planning to do for the evening. "Yeah, plenty of time. I'll be right over."

He was out the door without a second thought, watching both ways in hopes that he would not be met with anyone else on the way over. As he descended the stairwell rather than take the elevator, his mind began to wander to other things, the image of Abaddon burned into his mind as his mind raced. The notion that other Chaos Marines had been seen running about Remnant had set him on edge, some part of his mind wondering if all those present were some manner of Veteran of the Long War. Perhaps it was just Eliphas the Inheritor, and then the rest were newer, less experienced Chaos Marines. After all, Red Corsairs, Blood Wolves, all of these had been mentioned by the group earlier and hardy any of them were particularly old warbands. Now, granted, the Alpha Legion and Iron Warriors did worry him, but they seemed to be scattered and/or dead, and were probably not a significant threat.

But missing members did not mean that members of those Legions were still out there, and Jacob was fully aware of it. His mind raced with potentials of who was here beside Eliphas; If a Dark Apostle so high-profile as he was made their way to Remnant, then there was little doubt that other names may have made their way as well.

His mind raced with names. Fabius Bile, the manic apothecary; Honsou, the Iron Warrior who created the Daemonculaba; Araghast the Pillager of the Black Legion; the meme-inducing lunatic Firaeveus Carron; Erebus, another Word Bearer and the original catalyst of the Heresy; Nemeroth, Titus' opponent and Chaos Undivided Sorcerer in the _Space Marine_ game...

 _Arkos the Faithless, Erebus, Kor Phaeron, Svane Vulfbad, Sindri Myr, Luther, Huron Blackheart, Eidolon, Iskandar Khayon..._

 _Ahzek Ahriman._

His stomach clenched at the notion that Ahriman could fall in battle, not with how close he'd gotten to the Black Library. His arcane spells would turn them all inside out, if not into smoldering ash piles or... or Chaos Spawn.

 _Lucius the Eternal._

Now his blood felt a flash of cold. He wouldn't wish Lucius' hedonisms and perversions to befall even Cinder considering everything.

 _Calas Typhon... Typhus._

The idea of plague zombies rising up on Remnant in the name of Papa Nurgle filled his mind with that name, the sadistic side of his brain adding a zombified RWBY and JNPR to the mix. His hands were clammy now, beginning to shine with sweat.

He was now down the stairwell and into the foyer, his mind so preoccupied that while he noticed Sun, Delia and Blake talking off to the side, he made no comment, only waving to them and getting a small wave from both in return.

 _Khârn._

His stomach churned now. He knew full well his mind was overreacting, but he couldn't stop the thoughts; Hell, to stop them would mean that he would not be prepared for anything. All the while, his brain imagined the two teams fighting the chosen Champion of Khorne, getting batted aside like bugs in a hurricane.

 _Ezekyle Abaddon._

He forced open both doors and walked out into the warm evening light, the sun now beginning to hide behind the tree line and casting the sky in reds, oranges and violets not unlike the skies of home. But his mind didn't care as it raced. It cast a singular image of Abaddon towering over Ruby and Pyrrha, the Talon of Horus and Drach'nyen gleaming evilly over the two girls. Like a slinking serpent, the Talon began tracing Pyrrha's cheek as the daemonic sword threateningly tickled Ruby's throat—

"Fuck! Okay," he said as he shook his head, backhanding himself to shut up his brain. "Okay, okay, that's enough. It's probably not Abaddon, It's probably not Khârn, it's... it's probably some secondary characters, some lesser champions not worth the Chaos Gods' time." He kept walking, continuing to talk to himself has he forced his mind to win down from its panic. "The Gods would not give up their favorite playthings so easily."

Jacob reached up and plugged his earbuds in, flipping through his music as he continued past the dormitory complex and towards the center courtyard. With a shake of his phone, he shuffled his music, hoping for something that would take his mind off the threat for a few minutes.

It was quiet for a few seconds before an audible blip rang out. Drums began to pound distantly, met with Slavic chanting.

He let out a sigh. "For once," he said to himself, "Sabaton might not be the best thing to listen to."

His stomach slowly stopped clenching, his palms began to sweat less, but the thoughts remained in the back of his head, even as _Swedish Pagans_ tried to force them out. Unconsciously, his footfalls began to match the rhythm, keeping pace with the drums almost as if he were marching with it.

For three minutes he walked, passing the courtyard and closing in on the gardens as the light of the sun dimmed, sinking down over the edge of the sea with the moon beginning to ascend in the shadow of the CCT Tower. Eventually, the power metal ballad ended, leaving Jacob's ears ringing from the volume he had cranked it to. For his troubles, the music had rewarded him with the thoughts of Chaos running amok now gone and buried beneath the folds of his brain.

But even then, the echoes of those thoughts still remained in his imagination. It was enough that it still made him uneasy.

The concrete and cobblestone of the outside suddenly transitioned into tile as he passed through the auditorium on the path he had initially set to. The lights were still on in the overhead area, but the walkways were abandoned and quiet, bearing no one despite it being peak Professor-visiting hours. Jacob had already been here earlier today after class had ended, going in for his tutoring with Cain; The twinge of pain he felt on his hindquarters every so often was enough of a testament to the truth of how well it went.

There was a sound like a clang of metal, small at first. He noticed it but thought nothing of it, thinking it was maybe just someone dropping a metal pen or something across the way. Then it rang out again, followed in quick succession by a few more. Somebody was sparring.

A female voice let out a roar, and the sound like the shotgun from Halo firing off once, twice, thrice, four times. Yang.

Another, more composed war cry from a deeper female voice, followed by a clanging and the sharp sound of a blade. Pyrrha.

Jacob turned down one of the entry doors and stopped halfway through. A spar was going on.

At the moment he walked into visual range, Yang was flying high over Pyrrha, in the middle of some manner of twisting strike as Ember Celica blasted off a couple shots towards the ground. Pyrrha, by comparison, was crouched low, her spear held by the end as she brought it up in a wide cleaving blow meant to smack Yang back down to the ground. It missed Yang as she continued her vault, only for Pyrrha to keep up the momentum, whipping the spear in a wheel around her as she held Yang back. It succeeded, forcing Yang to somersault backwards to avoid the blades, only to right herself and go practically bananas with blasts from Celica. The shots bounced off of Akouo as Pyrrha ended the spinning blade's path and brought it back behind her, collapsing it back into a sword and leaping forwards into the blasts.

Yang leapt forwards too, the two colliding in mid-air, a shockwave and sound following the collision like Mjolnir meeting a vibranium shield, bell-ringing sound and all. The two skidded backwards, Yang clawing at the ground as she skidded to a halt while Pyrrha drew her sword and let it be her brakes.

"Come on, Yang! You can take her!"

"Go, Pyrrha! Kick her ass!"

Jacob's ears perked up at Ruby and Nora's voices. He almost jumped in his skin as he looked down towards the bleachers ahead of him, seeing both teams sitting beside one another, albeit with RWBY being short one cat Faunus.

Jacob grimaced. "She's getting lost in her hunt for Adam," he muttered to himself. "I'm the one who's supposed to be getting OCD about potential invasions here."

The fighting lasted for several minutes, the two going back and forth, neither truly getting a better blow on the other; Yang's Aura and Semblance would pump her up and give her an edge to her attacks, only for Pyrrha to just visibly bring her own Semblance to bear, maneuvering Yang's punches just off course enough to not look suspect.

They were damn-near evenly matched, and Jacob was enjoying every second of it.

Finally, Pyrrha seemed to gain an upper hand as she dropped in close, taking Celica's blasts at point blank. Pyrrha spun on the spot around the arm, Yang suddenly lurching forwards; Pyrrha had grabbed Yang's arm and was spinning her around, the blonde bombshell suddenly engulfed in a light haze of Pyrrha's Semblance. Without what seemed like no effort, she spun Yang around 360 degree or so and launched her forwards, Yang being forced to stumble forwards. Pyrrha spun and transformed Milo back into the rifle form, firing off two, three, four shots before spinning it and transforming it into its spear form. With a mighty heft, she launched the spear forwards, smacking Yang dead in the small of her back as she kept stumbling. The spear's impact was enough to send Yang nearly to the edge of the ring, only for Yang to catch herself and spin like a breakdancer, vaulting back upright. Even at a distance, Jacob could see that Yang was panting heavily, her shoulders sagging and her chest bobbing up and down with strained breaths.

"Okay then," she said through a strained breath and a chuckle, "Let's call that a draw."

Pyrrha let out a breathy laugh as she drew back the spear with her Semblance as if it were Mjolnir, the weapons transforming back into a rifle as she grabbed it and holstered it on her back. "Sounds good. I'm starting to get tired myself."

Yang laughed. "I'm not getting tired," she said, "I just wanted to end it before I whooped you and embarrassed you in front of Jaune." Jacob could see Yang wink from all the way where he was sitting at the moment, and he could say without doubt that she must have been onto Pyrrha's little crush by now.

This was all the more confirmed by Pyrrha's blush and her right hand scratching at the back of her head.

"Hey," Jaune called out jokily, as oblivious as ever, "she _was_ about to beat you."

The group began laughing amongst themselves, though Weiss seemed to groan as Nora held out her hand and beckoned, answering the gesture by handing over several Lien.

Jacob sighed as he watched them, the two amazons on the sparring ring closing the distance between one another and shaking one another's hands with a gladiator handshake—they grabbed one another's arms in a firm embrace. Not a second later, they had drawn one another into a close hug, as if they were as much sisters as Yang and Ruby were already.

Jacob smirked in amusement as he felt his worries muffle themselves at the sight. For but a brief second, the world seemed right and all the troubles of this world were nothing more than pedantic details.

His Scroll buzzed at his hip. His brain put two and two together before he even needed to look down. _Whoops._

He started on his feet and spent not a moment longer there, kicking himself for lingering and leaving Penny waiting. Even as their laughter faded with distance, he felt a mild rift in himself as he left, part of him wanting to stick around and hang out some. But he did tell Penny he would be along shortly, and to leave her hanging was something he wouldn't forgive himself for.

He shook his head of his imagined slights and continued onwards, the light outside continuing to dim as the sun set farther and farther in the west. Jacob continued to wander onwards, the cooled interiors of the building giving way to a hot summer evening as he exited the building. The laughter was gone now, and no murmurs to hear, though he could swear by his own ears that he though he heard footfalls from inside. He shook if off, thinking it was an echo of his own bouncing off of the walls inside.

* * *

During his traversals around Beacon Academy, he had of course learned of the main courtyard path that almost everyone was familiar with, leading directly from the CCT Tower towards the landing pads, which at the moment were occupied by Atlas soldiery still unloading. That path led out to the massive waterfall and cliffside that sported it—though it turned out there was a small ferry port at the base of the cliff that the people could use as a means of emergency escapes or for students to use. Jacob had actively called out Ozpin on how ridiculously inviting that was for any romantically-inclined students to make with a little hanky-panky on a romantic boat ride, but that was unimportant. However, he had instead gone opposite of that, headed westwards rather than eastwards and towards the city. The main path into the city was thinner and perhaps a bit less elaborate, feeling more like a scenic backway rather than a grand entrance to the campus grounds. It was here that he could find the gardens that he so often traversed.

He spotted her standing beside one of the small ponds that the gardens sported. She stood watching him, stiff and robotic at first before her silhouetted arm shot up, waving frantically to him. In the dim moonlight, her turquoise eyes shone brightly, almost as if they were luminescent themselves; Jacob had to wonder if her synthetic eyes sported full-on LED systems in some manner or another. Her smile was contagious as the plague, Jacob feeling a smile rise to his face as he closed in on her position.

Truth be told, by this point she was not quite close enough to be a tried-and-true friend yet, but he couldn't deny how much more comfortable he was around her. She knew the truth, now, after all; he could speak freely with her, perhaps even more so than he could with the Imperials. Hell, by now she was more familiar with his world than anyone else was, the two having spent an evening or two watching some of his movies on his moderately-sized phone screen. If he could have access to a television and a connecting chord, he might have been able to show her a movie on a proper screen rather than a screen the size of a small notepad. Hell, if he could get his hands on one of those larger Scrolls and figure out how and even if he could port them over, that would be a step in the right direction. But for now, this worked to what they needed.

"Salutations, Jacob," she said, drawing him into an ironclad hug that knocked the wind out of his lungs.

This was becoming routine between them, and even then, Jacob could never fully brace for that Herculean hug of hers. "Hey Penny," he said, the pain ebbing from his voice as she effortlessly lifted him in her grasp. "Sorry about the wait."

"Oh, that was quite alright," she said, her hug refusing to yield. "I spent the additional seven minutes, forty seconds and twenty-two nanoseconds contemplating what movie I wanted to see next, as well as what we might need to consider for our plans."

"At least you're more productive with your time than I ever am," Jacob commented, feeling his back start to ache from her hug. "Uh, Penny, remember what we talked about with regard to hugs."

"Oops," she said, letting him fall back to earth. He landed on his feet, his chest hurting as he tried to regain his breath. "I must confess that the emotion chip has really taken to my new experiences."

"Well," he said as he let out a small cough, "that's better than no emotion. So, first off, you mentioned something about our plans. What crossed your mind?"

"Actually, it's something that I thought of while I was watching the army's parade through Beacon," she said calmly. "With the change of the timeline in regards to the dance and by extension the application of Ms. Fall's virus, I considered possible avenues by which she could engage in uploading the virus, or by other means that she might be able to apply it to the network."

Jacob nodded in thought. "True, with the dance being post-Breach now, she won't have as much time for the virus to get into the overall CCT system. But I didn't think it would take that long, anyhow."

Penny shook her head. "It normally wouldn't, but I suggested to General Ironwood that we also consider cyber-attacks as well. He didn't expect something that aggressive, but he did make plans to install a new system into the CCT Network that reworks security protocols on a daily basis."

"Good, good," Jacob said. "That will make things difficult, but that could modify our timeline outright."

"Then there's... god news of a sort, at least for us. He won't be able to install it until at least the beginning of the Vytal Tournament, and that is supposed to be in four weeks' time now."

Jacob looked up. "They shifted it back a week."

She nodded. "Professor Ozpin wanted to avoid any delays, but the Council has begun deferring more to Ironwood."

"The suicide bombing," Jacob deduced. His ears started ringing a bit. "They're already thinking that Ozpin can't keep the Kingdom safe."

"If the Breach does occur as in the normal timeline," Penny said, "there is an 87.834% chance that full command of security of the Kingdom of Vale will be handed over to General Ironwood by the time of the Vytal Tournament."

"Plays right into Cinder's plans," he mused aloud.

"But into ours as well."

Jacob grimaced. "You're not wrong."

Penny blinked. "What's the matter? Wasn't this the original plan?"

Jacob brought his hands up defensively. "Well, yes, but don't think for a moment that by some degree we've damned some people to a premature end in favor of others surviving."

Penny sat in thought for a moment. "You... are right to some degree," she finally concluded with a frown. "I ran similar assessments earlier last week and had a similar thought, I admit. But I was able to rationalize that—at least in theory—the short-term casualties of such a battle would be more than compensated for the addition of Ms. Nikos' skill and combat prowess in defeating this Salem." She blinked, a sour look appearing on her face, as if she had swallowed a lemon whole. "Actually, hearing that aloud feels... what is the word for 'emotionally numb or distant?'"

"Callous? Manipulative? Psychopathic? Take your pick," Jacob replied. "Trust me, when the thought has occurred to me, I called myself the same thing."

Penny looked at him with a look he had seen several times before, the same look that an old friend of family member would give him when he would have an episode of verbal self-flagellation. Worry mixed with refusal to accept what he had said. "It... it might be perhaps a bit callous of a decision," she said aloud to him. "But maybe only to someone on the outside. You're making all of these decisions to save Ms. Nikos, to save me and Ruby's sister as well. By Valean philosophy, that is a brave and heroic thing to do."

Jacob sighed, turning away and staring off towards Beacon Tower. "Depends on who remains alive at the end of this all. If I fuck up, this will be all for naught."

Silence for a solid minute as he let his mind wander. The shadowy thoughts creeped up on him again, the Talon's sharp gaze tracing scarlet red hair.

"That's not even considering the Eightfold Path and what they might try."

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He turned and found himself gazing into innocent seas of turquoise.

"I think you will succeed," she said with a weak smile. "You already have a leg up on them; you have let me know of what is supposed to be my demise. I've already begun setting up contingents to protect and back up my memory data and I've been offering suggestions to General Ironwood on where to place troops to avoid casualties from compromised Knights should Ms. Fall's virus successfully upload."

Jacob nodded with a sigh. "Good, good," he said, "Like I said before, you're steps ahead of me."

"And yet you've acted preemptively by inciting a group of experienced Huntsmen and war veterans to our cause, most of them having some manner of relationship to Ms. Nikos."

Jacob sighed. "I guess you're right, to some extent. Hell, even if I can't save her, they have a far better chance of it."

"That's the spirit," Penny said, then smiling a toothy, eyes-closed smile, one that ebbed through his own body with ease, alighting his heart with an air of peace to it.

He didn't stop the smile from being returned. "Bah, enough of that for now," he said, "I'm being a sourpuss again. Come on, let's watch a movie; any in particular you wanted to see?"

Penny brought a hand up to her chin as she tapped her index finger on it, letting out an audible hum. "I do want to see the next movie in the _Star Wars_ series," she started, "but I was interested in that... _Jurassic Park_ movie we discussed."

Jacob didn't stop a mild bark of a laugh. "My favorite movie," he said, "and the reason I was obsessed with dinosaurs." He stopped midway through his next thought before he even finished his sentence, though, as something crossed his mind. "Considering you were able to hook into my phone, why didn't you download the movies on my phone as well?"

Penny blinked before she scratched the back of her head. "I, uh, I couldn't download them all without having to take the phone from your possession, or keep hidden and risk making General Ironwood angry."

She hiccupped. He shot her a raised brow.

She smiled meekly. "And also... I thought it would be more human for me to see it as normal humans do than as a robot girl would; downloading it like a file."

Jacob couldn't lie to himself about how sweet a notion that was. Every second he watched her, he didn't see a robot girl seeing the world through LED eyes, but rather a young girl made of unconventional stuff and a wide-eyed curiosity to this thing that everyone called the 'human experience.' "Penny," he said, "That's sweet enough to give me diabetes. You might make this young man cry like a baby if you're not careful."

She giggled. "Well, what other options are there?"

"Well, you mentioned _The Last Samurai_ , that's a fun movie; incorrect as hell, but still fun. There's _Empire Strikes Back_ as well if you want to continue on _Star Wars._ There's Disney movies, I have the first four _Die Hard_ movies, I got almost all of the Marvel Comics films before I left—shame I'm gonna miss _Infinity War—_ as well as the first two films of the Dark Knight Trilogy." He began flipping through his phone's video library, watching the movie posters fly by. " _Lord of the Rings_ Trilogy, some of the big horror films like _Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13_ _th_ _—"_

"So, there's where you went sneaking off to!"

If Jacob had any stronger legs, his jump of surprise might have cleared a meter or more. Penny's was more of a flinch of surprise, but both did turn about to see who was the offender.

Yang was standing at the base of the small hill, hiding in the shadow of a tall rose bush with her arms crossed and a smug look of satisfaction across her face. Beside her stood Ruby, her arms crossed as well but a face that melded worry with ire. Ire of not being told something, and fear of Penny being discovered.

Jacob, on the other hand, was probably paling as far as he was concerned. His heart was hammering in his chest as he saw the two half-sisters standing there, watching them. How long had they been there? Had they heard the whole thing? Had they heard about their plan? About his world? The Imperials?

Five more figures rounded the corner, and Jacob's heart skipped a terrified beat. Weiss was watching them with a critical eye as she came up on Ruby's left side, sandwiching herself between the siblings. Following behind her was JNPR, each sporting a different look; Ren wore a contemplative look, as usual, opposite of Nora's giddy, almost coy smile as she rested her hands on her hips with a sassy poise to her gait. Jaune had no look on his face, but his eyes spoke of curiosity that was dancing around his mind. Pyrrha, however, seemed to approach a bit closer to them, a genuine smile on her face as her emerald eyes sparkled alongside Jaune's sapphire blue eyes.

"Uh... h-hey guys," Jacob said, his stomach threatening to rebel in panic.

"Oh, uhm... Salutations, Ruby," Penny said beside him. "I am surprised to see you out here at this hour."

"The same could be said of you guys," Yang said with a laugh. "Out for a midnight treat... uh, treaty—no, wait, that's not the word..."

There was silence as everyone watched Yang for a second as she tried to come up with the right word. Jacob didn't need that much time to figure it out; he already knew the word.

"Ohhh," Penny said eventually, "you mean a tryst, correct?"

"Uh, right, right, that's the word! You two were-"

" _NO_ , Yang," Jacob said with a roll of his eyes, "We are not romantics. We were just going to... well—"

"We heard you guys talking about movies," Ruby said aloud. "Have you guys been going out and watching movies in secret?"

Jacob turned to look at Penny, knowing full well that they shared a look of slight panic. "Uhh... yeah," he said quickly. "Some movies from my part of the world. They're, uh... they're pretty high quality, all things considered. But I don't know if you guys would like them or not."

Penny shot him a look that said 'Oh God, you may have doomed us.'

"I don't know," Yang said, "Your kind of movies sound like my kind of movie if you are anything to go off of. Besides, you guys seemed kinda lonely... and I've never actually gotten a chance to talk with you, Penny."

It was at that moment that Jacob noted something spark in Penny's eyes. It was not unlike the same liveliness he had seen in her eyes mere moments ago, albeit tinged with something very human. That same thing that he saw in a lot of people when something they coveted came into view. That same thing that he himself knew all too well when he caught an eyeful of a new model.

Desire. Human desire. Desire for friends, in this particular instance.

The writing was on the wall before he even let out a breath.

"I... your assessment is not incorrect, Ms. Xiao Long. And I have been wanting to properly interact with you all."

Jacob swallowed. "Maybe a movie won't be a good idea, all things considered."

"Yeah," Yang replied, "I don't think we're all going to be able to squeeze around that little screen for a movie. Granted, I'm sure the guys could squeeze in behind—"

Jacob didn't intend on it, but he and Weiss both cried in unison, "Don't you dare finish that sentence, Yang Xiao Long."

Yang only shrugged and smiled as Nora started giggling.

"Well," Jacob said, "A movie might be out for the moment, but I don't think it's a bad night for... I don't know, stargazing or something?"

Pyrrha seemed to ponder that. "The light from the city might be a bit too much to see anything dimmer than The Shrouded Angel and the First Huntsman," she said as she looked up into the sky. "Perhaps another night. But the movie might not be a bad idea, albeit we might be able to see any of your's, Jacob."

"Hey," Yang said as she raised a lone finger in thought, "I don't think Jacob has seen anything from Vinewood, now that I think more about it!"

Jacob blanched. "Huh?"

Yang turned to look at him. "In the last five months I haven't heard you once make a reference to a movie out of Vinewood, and you always struck me as the kind of guy to make movie references."

"Hey," Jaune said, "I'm sure he's seen a few. You saw Spruce Willis' _Tough to Kill_ , right?"

Jacob twitched at that combination of words. It was too close to what he and half of the American people called the greatest Christmas movie to ever exist, and that didn't sit well with his movie buff side. "Uh... no, I haven't," he said, the 'no' getting drawn out on a long syllable.

Jaune leapt back with a wild look on his face. "What!? What about _High Noon at Kuroyama!?"_

Jacob shook his head. That one sounded like nothing he had ever heard of before.

" _The Bastion?"_

"That's a hard no."

Now Weiss stepped forwards. "You must have seen at least _Daring to Dream?"_

Again, a headshake of 'no'.

" _Mourning Star,"_ asked Ren.

Headshake.

Nora practically leapt forwards into his face. " _Gilly O'Greene and the Magicians Five?_ For the love of all that is holy in this world," Nora said, begging on her hands and knees, " _please_ tell me you've seen that classic children's movie."

"You didn't have a childhood if you didn't see that," added Jaune with a concerned tone.

Jacob cringed at their reaction and what it would be with his answer. "Sorry. Nada there."

Nora's look of shock and horror belonged in an old Sunday funnies column from Jacob's perspective, her pupils gone and her eyes and mouth so wide you'd expect a bird to fly out of the latter and hypnosis wheels to form in the former. Volume 2 animation just kept making things difficult for him to take these kinds of things seriously, and he almost broke out in giggles. "You poor, tortured soul! What kind of parents didn't take you to see that!?"

 _Parents who raised me on Disney movies and Star Wars primarily,_ Jacob thought to himself. Instead, he replied, "We had our own movies in my neck of the woods. One of these days I'll need to show you guys them... but I think tonight is your night to show me something new."

The teenaged Huntsmen and Huntresses all began wearing a smile of some form or another, as various as they were. Nora's exuberant, toothy smile tinged with urgency, Ruby's grin of innocent joy and revelation, Pyrrha's sweet bemused smile that melded with Jaune's as they stood side by side, Weiss' smug smirk laced with the tiniest hint of ire, Yang's chuckle-induced grin; all of them formed the spectrum the singular word that permeated them all: happiness.

Jacob didn't even hesitate to return the gesture, giving them a hesitant but genuine smile. "So... put it to a vote?"

" _Gilly O'Greene,"_ cried out Jaune and Nora in unison.

"I'd vouch for _The Bastion_ ," said Pyrrha. "Historical dramas are always a fun subject, and the battle sequences nearly match up with the actual battle in the Great War."

Weiss let out a contempted huff. "War movies. Honestly, Pyrrha, I thought you would suggest something more akin to _Ten Daughters for Ten Fathers_ or _The Amazon in Love_."

"Oh, yes, _Ten Daughters_ is a good one, a fun musical. Considering your love of music, perhaps that might be in your range of tastes?"

Before Jacob could react to the one that sported a similar name to _Seven Brides for Seven Brothers_ , Yang stepped in the way. "Oh, hell no," she said with a laugh. "My man Jacob here's not some estrogen-filled lady like us, right? He's all testosterone, needs something to get the blood boiling. I vote for _Tough to Kill,_ or—or, better yet, _The First Huntsman!"_

The group continued to bicker for a bit, leaving Jacob to back up beside Penny a few feet back from the group. He turned and looked at her and muttered lowly, "Well, that's some cover saved, for the moment at least."

She nodded quietly, eyeing them all. "Ms. Xiao Long said she wanted to get to know be better, just like you and Ruby did. Do you... think that—"

"Penny," Jacob said in a mutter as he watched her face rather than them. "I mean... technically they don't know about you until the Vytal Tournament, and even then it's only after—"

"But what if they knew ahead of time?"

Jacob felt his mind go on metaphorical Yellow Alert. "Penny," he said with sarcastic sweetness, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Perhaps we can play this to our advantage—"

"And what happens if this backfires in our faces? If we act too early or too quickly, we will be—"

She hurriedly shushed him, much to his ire; he knew full well that he was going to need to censor himself. But her eyes, he started to notice, were somewhere else so to speak. They were distant and perhaps a smidge vacant, as if her consciousness had gone elsewhere. He didn't hesitate to shoot her a brow-furrowed look, even though he was fairly certain she wouldn't react to anything he did at the moment.

"Uh, Penny," he heard Ruby say, "are you okay?" He turned and was met with Ruby standing feet from him, giving her a confused and slightly worried look.

After a few seconds, Penny blinked and shook her head as if she were recovering from a blow to the skull. "Oh, my apologies, Ruby," she said, "I was just... considering something."

Jacob felt the sweat wanting to leave his pores again. It didn't help that her gaze kept falling back and forth between Ruby and Jacob both.

Behind them, the rest of RWBY and JNPR sat in confusion. "Is everything alright," asked Jaune.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Arc," Penny replied. "I just..."

"Penny," Ruby asked, this time a little more firmly. "What is it?"

Penny seemed to let the words hang in her throat. "You promised to keep it a secret, both you and Jacob, right? Well... I think we can expand that bubble of people we can trust, right?"

Ruby's eyes widened slightly at that remark, and Jacob could see the wheels in her head go from resting to 100 miles per hour "Penny," she began urgently, "Are you sure you want to do that?"

Penny smiled and gave her a simple nod. "I'm not worried. I'm in the company of good friends, even with how short we've known each other."

Jacob turned his head and found himself locking eyes with Ruby, both unsure though Jacob knew for all different kinds of reasons.

"Are you guys in on something without us," Yang asked from the main body of the group. Jacob turned as Yang's eyes trained on him. "What's going on?"

Jacob stammered at first in his attempt to answer Yang. What could he say that wasn't absolutely batshit to them? What could he do to prove it to them and declare it to them in one fell swoop?

And then it hit him. Her hands, damaged by the impact of the truck all those weeks ago—practically a month or more ago by now.

"Penny," he called out. "Should we give them a demonstration so we don't have to go through the normal song and dance of most movies?"

Penny didn't seem to understand the last part of his sentence, but she did understand what he meant by 'a demonstration'. She nodded and then asked him one thing that in the real world would have him calling up the nice young men in their clean white coats for a run to the funny farm.

"Jacob," she said, "can you hand me your stiletto knife for just a minute? I need to make an incision into my hand to show them properly."

Jacob didn't need to look backwards to know that most of them were sporting some kind of confused or shocked look. He sighed, reaching into his pocket before handing it over to him. "For the record," he replied, "even knowing the real deal stuff isn't enough to make this any less uncomfortable for me."

Penny nodded. "I'll make sure to make the incision clean and quick. And besides," she added as she took the knife slowly, only to spin it and reveal the blade, positioning it a quarter-inch or more above her fake epidermis. "I don't bleed anything except hydraulic fluids and oxygen receptions."

"Whoa, whoa," he heard Yang say, "What's going on? Penny, you're kinda scaring us, can you please put down—"

The knife went into her epidermis with an audible sound. Yang and Weiss both made a sound, Yang's being a cry of surprise mixed with a scream of 'oh shit' while Weiss' was a shocked scream mixed with terror.

Penny wasted no time, pulling the blade up past her facsimile of a knuckle and over her middle finger, slicing through the fake skin like a hot knife through butter. No look of pain crossed her face, though Jacob presumed that her internal sensors were probably losing their minds at the moment.

"What in the name of The Allfather, Penny," Nora called out with a tone of shock, her work already completed as Nora continued freaking out. She handed the knife back to Jacob without either of them so much as blanching at what she had done, while all of RW_Y and JNPR—that included a very perturbed-looking Ruby—were freaking out in some form or another.

Penny didn't hesitate to look up at them. "What," she asked, "It doesn't hurt me. Nothing really hurts me." As she said that, she peeled away the fake skin, the rising moonlight dancing across a metal plate beneath and bouncing back into Jacob's eye with a glint.

Jacob blinked as his eyes were dazzled. "I am so surprised how little this actually phases me," he said nonchalantly. "Then again... she isn't actually... well, human."

To emphasize his point, she raised her outstretched hand up to her side in a statue's wave. The hand was a very simple and yet advanced design now that he saw it, just around the middle point of the uncanny valley spectrum, close enough to humanoid to feel familiar, yet sporting the blocky, angular, green-glowing circuitry-veins of a computer ingrained into the silvery metal that made up her endoskeleton. Despite the circuits, the basic form of her hand was still lithe and somewhat graceful, almost dainty as far as he was concerned. In the few remains of the sunlight and the waxing moonlight, it seemed to glow an ethereal silver to him, as if it belonged to a ghost. He felt like if he tried to hold it now, the hand would crumple like a soda can by his mere grip, even though his brain kept reminding him of her ironclad grip. It was, in his mind, beyond what he had expected.

He blinked and turned his gaze to the teens. If he had any less emotional constitution, he would have busted out laughing at the looks on their faces. Ruby alone wore a look that seemed only mildly worried, though Jacob could assume that it was out of fear of the rest's reactions. Appropriately, they in turn wore one unified look on their faces: Wide eyes, jaws dropped, looking as if taken aback by this. Jaune and Ren were looking back and forth between Jacob himself and Penny, while Weiss and Pyrrha seemed to almost lean in closer, as if Penny was now a curiosity to study. Yang, by contrast, stood limply beside Nora, the two looking like marionettes with their strings cut as they teetered on their feet. Out of them came the silence of confusion, as if the part of their brains that controlled their larynxes were performing a hard reboot.

Crickets chirped their melodies as the silence went on. A robot girl, a group of stunned teenagers, a man from another world. _An answer to all of the riddles,_ Jacob thought to himself. The silence lasted a good, long 10 seconds.

"Sooo... Uh," Yang eventually began, "When were you guys gonna tell us about this?"

Jacob blinked and turned to Penny, the girl offering her own blink of confusion. He didn't even know why, but a small laugh rose in his throat as he let her question hang in the air. Penny soon followed with her own.

They may not have needed to know everything about to happen at this point... but maybe a little bit of information never hurt anybody.

The crickets chirped and they giggled. And something just felt right about it all.

* * *

A mug slammed down on the table, a few drops of coffee roiling and spilling out over the side and onto the faux wooden table. The white ceramic mug was already staining from the drink's presence, the sloshes and drips on it leaving small lines of coffee stains on its sides and within. A large stain sliced the Beacon Academy logo in twain.

"James, you can't be serious..."

"I am very serious about this, Ozpin. More serious than you realize."

The warm light of the room began feeling less and less comforting as he watched the two Headmasters argue. With the marble and tan cast in the dim yellow and red glow, it was starting to remind him of a battlefield from a very long time ago; one he had thought would remain buried in the past.

He turned and locked gazes with Vulkan. The Salamander was sharing his look of apprehension.

Ozpin sighed from the front of the table. "The Vytal Festival hasn't even begun properly, and yet you intend on boosting security across the entire city? You understand how people will feel about this, right?"

"In the wake of the White Fang attack, people are already showing signs of concern for public safety," James replied as he tightened his hand into a resolute fist. "You knew the moment we spoke to one another after the attack that I would increase Atlas' presence for the Festival."

"And yet you've marched an entire army into the city," replied Glynda, "and—as long as I heard you correctly—just requested a curfew for the city to the Council!"

"Glynda, we cannot afford to let any more security breaches occur, and we cannot assume that a suicide bombing is the most they can manifest against us."

"This isn't protecting against terrorist attacks! This is expecting Salem's Grimm army to come knocking on our door, and you know it!"

"We cannot take any chances, Glynda! Grimm activity has increased exponentially in the border towns over the last five days.."

Titus massaged his brow with his thumb and index finger. _This is getting nowhere._

They all sat in the Beacon Initiation Room, sitting at a table that was designed to be hidden away beneath the center platform for initiations and other ceremonies. It was a massive table in all honesty, a solid six feet across at its head and base, and some 20 feet long on the sides. Currently, the table sported nothing more than mugs of various drinks, ranging from Earl Grey tea to coffee to just plain cold water for some. Around the table sat all of the members of the Inquisition currently present in Vale, including all of the Imperials within its borders at the moment. Most were already wearing bags under their eyes from the long days as auxiliary professors at Beacon, thought at the moment all were wide-eyed and at attention for this meeting of the Inner Circle of the Inquisition.

Titus had vouched for Jacob to miss this meeting, declaring that he and Mira would give him the full report when next they could speak to him in private. Considering the training he was doing with Cain on top of the schoolwork and other things to keep up appearances, Titus didn't expect he would make this meeting anyhow.

A fist slammed onto the table, rattling everything atop it. The sound it made echoed through the room, the golden sigil of the Inquisition seeming to reverberate with the echo.

"Alright," shouted Logan with the last few vestiges of his Fenrisian accent, "That's enough out of the both of you!"

Both turned to look at him with a small look of shock. Titus followed suit, noticing that the Great Wolf was now risen to his full height. By all accounts he was older than everyone present besides Ozpin, not accounting for his days as a son of Leman Russ. He wore his authority in his Aura, but it was rare for him to bring it to bear these days; when he did, however, even Titus couldn't deny that the air seemed heavier, and the temperature would noticeably drop, as if an essence of Fenris itself had followed him to Remnant.

Titus felt a chill down his back. He couldn't tell if that was from a drop in the temperature or from Logan's raw presence.

"This bickering is pointless," he said with a low tone, "but it does bring up a good point on both ends. We cannot expect that the White Fang will only stop at these simple but destructive means, but this does not give us the excuse to run rampant with enough soldiers to have a ten-mile long parade."

Ironwood stood up and began to speak. "But—"

"But nothing," said Vulkan, standing up as well from his seat with the effort of one who had been sitting for too long. "Too little a defensive force and we risk another attack. Too much and the people begin fearing something else is approaching."

"And we all know what is attracted to fear," added Ozpin.

"Exactly," said Logan. "A self-fulfilling prophecy if ever I saw one."

Titus shifted slightly in his chair, flexing his hand in desire to reach out for Mira's hand beside him. He didn't deny that the two parties were correct in their concerns, considering how much this was all escalating; but there was the fact that they were trying to maintain to the timeline that Jacob had presented to them. Too much security meant Salem would no doubt do exactly that; return with a larger army and potentially put all of the city in even greater danger, and the lives of both Pyrrha and her friends in even greater danger on top of that.

But that put innocent lives on the metaphorical chopping block.

Titus shifted again as the thoughts raced through his mind. Even without the geneseeds of a Space Marine, the scion of Guilliman always had his mind around two steps ahead of the curve, even if he actively went against those assessments or followed through with them.

There was a sigh from Logan that seemed to speak on all of their behalves. "We should discuss this later," he added as he drew himself back down, sitting and returning to the way he was earlier. "For now, however, we should discuss James' report from the outlying territories. I presume you've found something of note?"

Ironwood nodded, readjusting his tie as he cleared his throat. "Thank you for talking us down out of that argument, Logan. And yes, my scouting corps have identified activity in several key sectors around the city." Reaching into his jacket, he produced his Scroll and began to type in the necessary commands. A second later, the table lit up, the wood being replaced with a holoscreen. Without a moment to spare, the grid was covered with traced lines following the paths of roads, city districts, even the small rivers that split Vale apart and emptied into the bay. As the horizontal layout finished constructing, the city itself began to rise from the table, the small structures of the Residential District eclipsed by the towering form of Beacon in the east and the various factories, office buildings and more of the Industrial District in the west. Even the northern region known as The Peak was manifested, the tall hill it sat upon rising and then lulling back into the beaches that lined the bay, and in the south the tiny townships of Redhearth, Green River and Bounty Bay blended into the edges of Vale proper, vaguely forming the Agricultural District of the Kingdom.

In a matter of seconds, what had once been a faux-wooden table in the Inquisition's meeting room had become no different from the many holo-tables found on Imperial vessels and bases.

Titus felt a shift in the world, as if things had changed around him. He had become accustomed to the technology of Remnant years ago, but for a brief second, between the lingering threat of Chaos, being around so many Imperial brethren, and under the eye of a facsimile to such a cornerstone of the Imperium... he couldn't help but feel the strongest sense of déjà vu. A memory from another lifetime, standing with his brethren on the command deck of a Strike Cruiser as they prepared to descend to an enemy stronghold somewhere in the vast, maddening Galaxy he and the rest once called home.

He shook his head, the phantoms of Ultramar triumphant fading from his perceptions. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but point out to himself that he hadn't felt such a strong moment of déjà vu since he was enrolled at Beacon in the first place.

He looked around. A few of the others had the distance of memories resurfacing in their eyes. Old instincts kicking in for the first time in years, despite their no-doubt regular use of holo-tech like this. It was not unlike watching Dreadnoughts wink to life from their slumber.

Titus felt Mira's hand caress his own, seeking his. He did not hesitate to take it.

"For the last four days, I have sent out scouting forces around the city of Vale in an attempt to locate some manner of pattern to the activity of White Fang activists," Ironwood declared, a notable edge of concentration to his voice. "So far, we have unfortunately turned up very little in regards to patterns of activity." He pressed a button on his Scroll, and the city lit up with a couple dozen red dots, each one no doubt detailing an encounter with a member of the White Fang, or a piece of their propaganda flyers or anything really. But James was right in his assessment: no immediate patterns could be deciphered.

The table was silent as most studied the board with outwardly-presented interest. Titus, however, knew full well that the same thoughts were bouncing about his mind as the Imperials.

"This is only White Fang activity," Cain said as he leaned in from his seat, his eyes darting between the dots.

James nodded.

"Did you add in activity from any gangs working within the city?"

The glimmer of tactical prowess in James' eyes dissipated. "WE have heard very little from the likes of Roman Torchwick's gang over the last few weeks, and the Vale Metropolitan Police Department has indicated a sharp drop in activity from his group."

"And yet you still haven't considered any of their activity."

Ironwood's jaw clenched. With a few taps of his Scroll again more dots manifested, this time cast in the orange of Torchwick's symbol. Again, not a fully discernable pattern, but there was the vestiges of one hidden somewhere beneath it all.

The whole of the Inquisition seemed to lean in closer. Titus even noted Ironwood starting to put the pieces together.

Titus looked up from the map, a thought bouncing through his head. "What about activity from the Eightfold Path?"

Ironwood met his gaze. "Also scattered," he said, "But they've been all over the place with their severity: graffiti of the Eight-Pointed Star, basic vandalism, some petty thefts of Dust stores and a few other locations... and then..."

"Murders. They've been murdering people in the streets," deduced Gabriel from his seat on the far edge. "And I presume other things as well."

James' face turned dark and grim. "Assaults have increased the last few weeks," he replied. "Of both physical and sexual varieties. Muggings have turned lethal and people are beginning to be hospitalized with far more frequency."

Glynda and Ozpin shared a look of shock before turning to Ironwood. "The string of murders has been at their hand, then? How do we know this?"

Ironwood sighed. "Besides the ritualistic manner they were killed in," he said quietly, "They all seem to have been branded with the same Eight-Pointed Star as has been found in the grafitti. Morticians have indicated they were applied pre-mortem, more than likely just before the victims died."

The Imperials all seemed to tense up. "That is their modus operandi," commented Titus, "without a doubt."

"And the assaults," asked Darnath. "What of them?"

"Victims have indicated many of the individuals that have attacked them have performed either ritualistic scarring or self-branding of marks found in the Eightfold Path. The Star again, The Skull, the Flame, the Boils, so on and so forth. The sexual predators have reportedly borne the Claw marking we have seen in some places in Atlas and Mistral, at least by comparison to victim reports."

Darnath and Luce seemed to lean closer together. Titus and Mira weren't far behind on that action.

"Add it to the map," commented Vulkan quietly. "Add them all."

James looked to the Salamander, a questioning look in his eyes. Vulkan only nodded.

The map lit up with even more. Dozens of spots across the city lit up in gold markings. A few pock marks in the Peak, some near Beacon and the Commercial District, a few along the Wharf District.

The Industrial District lit up as if it had been struck by a shotgun blast at medium range. There was no concentration to their activity in particular, but it was a lot more than in most other parts of the city. Titus was already running the numbers in his head.

And then the Agricultural District lit up like the sun.

It was like looking at a shotgun blast that had gone off at the same time as a frag grenade. Dozens upon dozens of them in the southern vestiges of the city, each one something tied to the Eightfold Path. Murders, brandings, rapes, muggings, all of them in some form or another. They were packed along the fringes of the District, where the city ended and the mountains began, where the Grimm lived wild and hungry. The farther east it went, the more packed together and numerous the reports were, until the border of Redhearth was a solid block of gold light.

"There's your pattern," said Cain morosely but matter-of-factly. "They seem to have a particular favor for Redhearth."

"They're striking from the southeast," deduced Ozpin. "Interesting. That would indicate either they have set up shop in Redhearth itself... or perhaps beyond the Kingdom's borders proper."

Most of the Imperials were already aware of the truth thanks to Jacob's story those three weeks ago. Vulkan visibly tensed up.

"I can order a flyby of the region to scout them out and launch an immediate assault if we detect any semblance of their presence along the borders," replied Ironwood.

"Oh no," Glynda said warningly, "We are not going in guns blazing."

"I agree with Glynda on this one," Ozpin replied. "They would scatter no better than bugs exposed to overhead lights the second they spotted our ships overhead. We must be subtle in our advances."

Ironwood glowered at Ozpin. "And if we don't engage now, they are given more and more time to build up their forces should they be planning for another attack. Ozpin, we don't have the luxury of time."

"No," Titus replied, standing up. "James is right and wrong in this instance. We cannot afford to wait for much longer, lest we open the city to the potential for an attack. But to go in with the bravado of Great War generals would scatter them only temporary; they would return, and we would look the fools. But perhaps we can force their hand as well as play them right into our own."

"Titus," replied Ozpin, "I take it you have clued in on the current investigations by Team RWBY and JNPR, then?"

The former Ultramarine blinked in surprise. "You never let anything slip past you, Ozpin. Yes," he admitted. "Over the last few months, Mr. Muller, Team RWBY and Team JNPR have been—as a side project to their Huntsman training and other such things—doing their own investigations into the White Fang and the rest of them, hence the incident with the stolen Paladin. The bombing attack was performed on us as we were collaborating with him on what information we knew at the time. They are nearly as embroiled in this as we are."

The room was silent for a few seconds. Glynda let a sigh escape her lips. "That would explain a lot," she said in exasperation.

"Ms. Belladonna's ties to the White Fang are catching up with her," Ozpin assessed. "Even though she kept her privacy, she surely must have expected that her father's name would be common knowledge even here in Vale."

"No one seems to bug her about it," Titus replied. "I would choose to believe they are being wiser than to be immediately judgmental. Either that, or they believe that there are more families with the name Belladonna than just hers."

"Remember, the bow," Vulkan said as an aside, pointing to the crown of his bald head. "Hides her Faunus cat ears."

Logan let out a huff at the mention. Titus had a good idea why that was.

"Why didn't you tell me that there was a member of the White Fang here at Beacon," Ironwood said, a mild tone of incredulity to his voice. "No less the daughter of Ghira Belladonna? She is a potential threat to the school—"

Ozpin held up a hand as he forcefully replied, " _She_ is a student of Beacon Academy and a _former_ member of the White Fang," he replied. "She has vocally opposed the White Fang on multiple occasions and actively fought them in the incident at the docks since she has begun attending Beacon Academy. Now, does the threat of her relapsing into their hands exist? Of course, there is a possibility of anything. But the _probability_ is negligible at best."

" _Anyway_ ," Logan said, trying to get everyone back on track. "Team JNPR, being their sister-team and also sporting ties to Jacob, they have also become a part of this matter. They have been focused on their own matters, but Jacob has actively mentioned to us that they are ready to strike when RWBY is ready."

"What is it you are suggesting exactly, Logan," Ironwood asked.

"Quite simple, James," replied Ozpin. "Consider that we are sending the students off on their first missions in three days from today. You're a general, so tell me; when you prepare to go to war, which do you send in first: the flag bearer, or the scouts?"

Ironwood seemed physically struck by the mere suggestion. "Ozpin," he said with quiet sternness, "what you're suggesting puts all of them in serious danger. Forgive me, but I have my doubts that this is a good idea."

"I cannot deny the danger it poses to both teams, or to Jacob for that matter," Ozpin replied calmly. "But they will be shadowing veteran Huntsmen while out there. On top of that, the current options presented would put them under the direct care of Bartholomew—"

"Oobleck!? Ozpin, with all due respect, I couldn't trust Bart to keep a padlock safe, much less two teams of Huntsmen-in-training."

Titus and Mira turned their gazes to one another. He was more right than he knew; for as diligent and attentive as he was, Bartholomew Oobleck had a horrible habit of missing things when he was wrapped up in other things. Someone else would be needed to keep the two teams safe.

Titus stood up, Mira making the same move in unison with him. "We could also help," Mira said aloud. "Having another two senior Huntsmen on board could make certain that our efforts are not in vain and they remain safe."

"Mira," Glynda said quietly, the look in her eyes already speaking volumes of how much she could read her former partner. "Ms. Nikos doesn't need the smothering of her godparents for this mission. I know that you have an obligation to her, but—"

" _No_ ," replied Mira, perhaps a bit too forcefully to remain inconspicuous. Her maternal instinct was kicking back in; they would need to make sure to call and see how Kaleb was after this meeting was over.

She cleared her throat and began to stand at attention, some holdover from her days as an Imperial Guardswoman. "N-no, it's not that. Or perhaps there is a bit of that. But just as well, Jacob is also at the most ease with us, if I may be so bold to suggest; if he shows too much nervousness in the process of this plan, he might become conspicuous and make concealing our efforts difficult."

"This I can agree with them on," replied Vulkan. "Titus and Mira seem to put him at almost as much ease as I do. And considering everything, I am of no help out there."

"Agreed," Ozpin replied. "Very well, I believe that sums up our concerns and our decisions. We have another few days before the first missions begin, and we should allow Titus and Mira to make their own preparations as well as be ready should they need to call upon us." The headmaster of Beacon rose from his chair, straightening the collar of his green turtleneck beneath his long-sleeved, v-neck vest. "Anything else to discuss?"

Silence held sway in the room.

"Very well. This meeting of the Inquisition is adjourned. Now, I believe it's gotten quite late," Opin said, looking down at the watch that he concealed beneath his vest sleeve. "As a matter of fact, it's closing on on 11:00. We should all probably turn in for the night."

Gabriel and Vulkan rose without a word as Logan stood up and stretched, a great howl of a yawn leaving his throat. "Admittedly, I was already thinking two steps ahead of you, Ozpin. I'll see you all in the morning."

Titus nodded without a word. Even if he tried, he would have a hard time sleeping tonight. His mind was already thinking ahead to what Jacob had said about this mission in particular, and what it meant for the city. If what he had told was to come true, deviations in the circumstances now aside, the city would find itself under attack in a few days. Now, Pyrrha would be a part of the force that would become tasked with stopping it. He knew his goddaughter well, and she would push herself to her extreme limit if it meant doing what's right.

Suddenly, that looming threat on her life felt very real.

He felt another hand caress his own. He didn't need to look over to know Mira's touch by now, his mind remembering all of the soft spots pocked amidst the calluses of Huntsman life. It pained him in some way that both of them sported none of the scars or calluses or other markings of their time in service to The Emperor and the Imperium; to him, it always felt as though a part of him had been left behind, never to be shared again with anyone. The only major scars he and the others sported were from their time here on Remnant, though some were given a fresh wound over a familiar location.

He looked over to her and was met with her brown eyes, now long-stripped of the deep violet so famed of Cadian eyes. They didn't even need to say a word to know that they were thinking the same thing in their minds:

 _Who's going to tell them the news when they arrive?_

* * *

 **Well, that all happened. The timeline is sure to see some long-lasting consequences to the revelations and plans put into place this chapter, right? _Right? RIGHT?_**

 **...*cough*...**

 **Yeah, sorta-kinda. How so? Stay tuned for the next chapter, where Jacob is filled in on the Inquisition's plans, Penny becomes best buddies with Pyrrha and Ruby, Yang confronts Blake, and Vulkan and Logan sit down for a few hours with the Blu-Ray of Volumes 2 and 3 to assess the collateral damage from Jacob's boondoggles in the background somewhere.**

 **...Oh yeah, Volume 6 is happening now. Episode 1 was good and fun, but I'm kinda miffed they got split up yet again. Who knows how this will go in the future.**

 **Also, Spoilers for Episode 2:**

 **WHY IS THERE A [REDACTED] IN RWBY NOW?! SALEM IS A [REDACTED]!? HOW THE HELL AM I GONNA MAKE THAT WORK FOR MY STORY!?**

 **Anyways, as always I ask for reviews on this rigamarole to see how well I'm doing writing this thing, and by God am I gonna do the same here. Any reviews, favorites, follows, all of that stuff are encouraged and appreciated as it tells me if I'm doing a good job at making this story worth both my time and your time.**

 **Anyways again, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and I will see you all in December. Happy Belated Halloween and Happy Thanksgiving! Buh-Bye~!**


	30. Prepare for Battle

**Okay, just as I'm finishing this up, I found out from my boss that I may or may not be fired as of today due to some scheduling shenanigans on the part of my manager. Needless to say, I'm wrapping this chapter up where it is wrapping up simply to give a good jump off point for the next chapter, where we finally get back to some proper action. But for now, enjoy~!**

* * *

 **Chapter 30: Prepare for Battle**

* * *

 _The scariest state of quiet is the one just before the chaos of battle, boys. Don't let it get to you. —Commissar Elise von Heldrinsser, 425_ _th_ _Valhallan Firstborn Regiment_

* * *

 _Nothing but darkness._

 _Darkness. Not even the kind that you felt crushed by, as if in the grasp of a massive fist. This was the kind that was empty of anything. No sensation of any kind to be sensed, no feeling, no sight, no taste, no sound, nothing of any variety. It was as if he was floating in nothingness, a nothingness that ate away at him, clawing for his very essence and seeking to suckle the very life from his body. Even the very act of his skin crawling felt uncomfortable, as if it harbored not an iota of resistance. He was floating in anathema, in a void without life or any of its vestiges. He was well and truly alone._

 _Or maybe he wasn't._

 _Even now, he could feel something where he could not feel anything else. Through the numbness of feeling nothing, not even the wind breaking upon him, not a single thing to be felt by his touch. And yet, he felt something caress his back. It was like a lightning bolt of cold was creeping across his back, some raw... energy of some kind that chilled his spine and ate at his very being. It was like hell itself was caressing him, beckoning him away from oblivion and into sensation. He shuddered._

 _The silence gave way to a great noise, like thunder that rattled his ears. It was like a bomb had gone off, the sound so great that his even now his ears were ringing. He felt his hands reach up to his ears as he grimaced in pain, feeling his eyes squeeze shut. It came in a staccato, like the sound of tank guns firing from behind him. His grip on his own head was a vice as he tried to block out the sound to no avail. He felt his fingers dig in desperately and his palms press his ears to his head, and yet the sound remained a deafening rhythm._

 _About then something clicked in his head as the sound began to slow but kept its volume. The deafening cacophony sounded less and less like thunder or cannons or anything that of their variety. No, this was a sound from a physical, natural source, something that came from a beast or a man, not a heartbeat or anything like that but a... a..._

 _A laugh. A deep, throaty laugh, like the laughter of a god. Or of a demon._

 _He turned by some manner of willpower, but with his eyes saw nothing around him. Just an absolute void. But he was still starting to... feel something around him. Some essence was there, some manifestation that he could not see, but could certainly hear and feel. It was fire and ice all in one, an anger tempered with patience, a wrath blessed with cunning and guile, wrapped in the very essence of the word 'ancient'. Its very presence was a towering colossus over him, beyond words and images and still just within the grasp of the human imagination._

 _And then the laughter turned into a voice._

" _ **Well, well,"**_ _it said in a baroque, throaty voice that boomed with unnatural authority._ _ **"What have we here?"**_

 _He felt a gnawing pit in his stomach. Whatever this thing was, power echoed in every syllable._

" _ **I can see your heart, boy,"**_ _it continued to say,_ _ **"And I can see your fears. Your fear... yes, yes... I see it now. You fear being what you see yourself as."**_

" _That's not true."_

 _Somehow, he could hear the smirk upon its face._ _ **"You**_ **are** _ **afraid, boy. You bear the fear of being inadequate for them. You fear that you will be the disappointment to them you see yourself as..."**_

" _That's a lie. She believes in me, he believes in me, I'm not letting them down!"_

" _ **Your lies to yourself won't hold out, boy. Lest you disappoint**_ **her** _ **the most."**_

 _He felt his fist tighten. "Shut. Up."_

" _ **Aahhh... there is the hot button,"**_ _it said._ _ **"It's her you want to please the most."**_ _The essence approached him, he could feel it there but couldn't see it. With nothing visual to process, his imagination began to run wild against his will._ _ **"She is the first to believe in you. She has trained you, sees you as the leader you want to be. Perhaps... she cares for you in other ways too..."**_

 _He let out a growl. The voice laughed in delight._

" _ **By the Four, I do believe I've plucked a nerve. Perhaps you've realized this too?"**_

" _She can do a lot better than me."_

 _The thing seemed to pause, the silence pregnant with ponderance. "_ _ **Perhaps you are beginning to feel the same thing too. Your defiance and defensiveness is a clear symptom."**_

" _Shut up!"_

 _It laughed._ _ **"Search yourself boy. Not that it will matter in the long run, anyway."**_

 _He felt a chill. "W-what?"_

 _Suddenly, there was light. He was forced to squint, his eyes burning with the sudden presence of light._

 _The voice continued speaking._ _ **"Your work shall be for naught, boy. Look around you."**_

 _He opened his eyes slowly, the light blinding. His blood ran cold._

 _Bodies. Piles of bodies strewn across the floor, bleeding, eviscerated, twisted in so many ways that it hurt just to look at them. Some were Huntsmen, armed to the teeth and yet still rent apart as if tin foil; others still were Atlas soldiers, tossed about like bowling pins and crushed, their guns turned to scrap metal. It was something out of a nightmare. But as his gaze started traveling farther down, closer to his feet, the faces started getting familiar. He saw General Ironwood, his chest ripped open with massive slashes along his chest. Even from here, they looked almost like claw marks. Headmaster Ozpin was next to him, limp and his hair matted with fresh blood. Port and Oobleck were there too, laying limply back to back, and Professor Goodwitch too, her eyes staring up into the sky void of all life as the same claw marks raked across her torso too, staining her blouse a deep red. He turned in horror and he saw Neptune, impaled through the chest with his own trident and limply leaning into it. Sun and his teammates were there too, all battered and bloodied, their weapons all shattered and laying at their feet. Then he saw CFVY, Coco and Velvet laying together, eyes locked together in a close and loving gaze even in death as they sat in their own blood; Yatsu was sliced in half, his blade sticking out of the ground where his legs were supposed to be, and Fox laid beneath a pile of rubble, his hand sticking limply out from the debris._

 _His horror kept growing as he looked around, seeing more and more people he recognized. "What... what are you... no! This can't be happening!"_

" _ **You might become strong, but you will not become strong enough. You may become wise, but you will never be wise enough. You may become fast, but you will never become fast enough. You shall never be enough to be a hero."**_

 _His eyes kept darting around, his heart racing. Now he could smell, and the smell made his stomach curdle; a smell of hot iron and burning ozone, mingling into an odor that roiled his stomach and assaulted his nose. He turned and saw more; Logan, his head rent with a greataxe, Angelos, lying looking up to the sky as his mouth dribbled blood and his chest looked unhealthily compact. Vulkan was burned and charred, rent by a claw as well that left a bright red slash in his burnt, green outfit; Cain was slumped against a rock, his chainsword sticking out from his chest; Titus and Mira sat slumped together, holes in their chests where their hearts had once beat._

 _He spun in horror, gasping for breath as his heart thundered in his chest._

 _He saw a flash of white near the base of his vision. He stopped. His head snapped in the direction._

" _Oh God! No! NO!"_

" _ **And you will never be enough to protect them."**_

 _They were all dead. All of them dead near his feet. He hadn't seen them, but now he did, and panic and terror gripped his heart. Weiss stared up into the light with blank eyes and her mouth just ajar, a thin line of blood tracing from her mouth and down her cheek, combining with the fresh blood trail that flowed from her eye scar. She was broken, Myrtenaster shattered in her hands and in her chest, a crude wooden pole embedded there too. Yang lied beside her, an arm gone and her hair flickering with dying embers that danced off the great and terrible gauge down the length of her spine. Blake sat limply, her back against a slab of concrete as he noticed that her bow was gone... and so were her ears... and it looked like she had succumbed to the same claws that killed the General and Professor Goodwitch._

" _No! No please!" His heart was hammering now, his breathing sharp and terrified,_

 _He spun in terror, turning to see Ren and Nora, laying in a cadaver's embrace as they bled from great holes in their chests and their throats slit. His head was swimming, his stomach roiling in disgust. "Guys! Please, get up! Someone! Please!"_

 _His foot tapped something. He looked down and was met with dead, silver eyes._

" _No! Ruby!" He dropped to his knees, cradling her head. There was no spark there in her eyes, and that fact scared him to death. Blood rolled from both corners of her mouth, her throat slit by something with a razor-sharp blade. "Please, get up... get up! Ruby!"_

" _ **You will fail them all. Behold the crux of that failure."**_

 _He looked up, and twenty feet away he saw her, kneeling and bent over, her bare shoulders and legs covered in bruises and cuts, her red hair wet with sweat. She was panting as if she were on her last breaths, exhaustion in her every movement. She looked up, and he felt his breath be stolen from his lungs. Her eyes were asymmetrical, one still it's beautiful emerald eyes, and the other one blooded and swollen from a bruise. It tore at his heart._

" _Pyrrha! Hang on, I'm coming!" he leapt to his feet and dashed madly towards her, seeking to save her._

 _He didn't get much farther than half way before he felt fire in his calf tendon. He roared in pain and dropped to his knees, the agony ripping through him. He looked back and saw an arrow in his heel, the offending thing glowing orange-hot as it stuck out from the base of his leg. He turned to look at Pyrrha, so close but still so far away. Ten feet, that's all he needed to move. But for some reason, he couldn't move; his arms felt like iron blocks, stopping him from moving. "Pyrrha! I'm coming, just hang on!"_

 _She looked up, terror in her eyes. "Don't! Save yourself, please!"_

" _ **Look upon this one, boy,"**_ _the voice called out again. A figure cast in shadows, as tall as a mountain stood behind her, a silhouette of spikes and other features standing out from its back. It was vaguely human in form; a massive clawed hand on its right, and a wicked, briar-like sword in the other hand. It walked up, and the claw came just into the light as it rose, caressing Pyrrha's throat with a sharp, predatory gleam. A trickle of blood dripped from a single spot._

" _No! Please! I'll do anything! Just spare her!"_

" _ **There is no mercy, boy... only death."**_

 _The Talon rose high with a sound like it had cut open the air itself._

" _NOOO!"_

" _Save yourself!"_

 _It came down._

 _Pyrrha screamed._

 _The world became chaos._

* * *

…

 _ **Thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk!**_

Some neuron in his brain forced a wince. He otherwise remained unconscious, despite his heart beating a mile a minute.

 _ **Thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk!**_

His eyes twitched under his eyelids. His mind was racing, but he was still unconscious.

 _ **Thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk!**_

" _Jacob! Are you there? It's Titus, I need to talk to you."_

His eyes forced themselves open, and the shadows lingered just long enough. He felt his heart beating ferociously, the last vestiges of the nightmare pounding in his head. The room was cast in the dim light of early morning, the sun's light almost to the edge of the horizon, the light in the room barely enough to see much of anything.

It reminded him too much of his nightmare. Pyrrha's scream echoed in his mind, chilling his bones.

 _ **Thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk!**_

"Uh," he said shakily, "h-hang on, Titus, l-let me throw on a shirt." He reached out for a t-shirt, his hand shaking like a leaf as it grabbed the grey shirt. He caught a quick glance at his Scroll's lock screen; it was 5:00 in the morning. He absently pulled it over his head and reached for his Scroll, saying, "You're good. Come in."

There was a sound like a small 'bleep-bleep' as his Scroll unlocked the door his room. In strode the Ultramarine Captain, dressed in his usual attire of a blue polo shirt and tan slacks, the badge of the Ultramarines smiling happily on his pocket. His face was calm but his eyes told of a brain already running a mile a minute. "Are you okay," he said. "You're shaking, and you look like you've seen a ghost."

Jacob grimaced. He took in a deep breath and held it for a second, letting it out slowly as he tried to slow his pulse. "It was just a nightmare, Captain. Nothing more."

"A nightmare on the eve of a major battle. Any soldier worth his badge of office knows that there's something else going on there."

Jacob sighed. "It was... it's a similar nightmare to what I've been getting in the past month or so... but this one was a bit different than most."

Titus' brow rose. Jacob's gaze met the floor. "It was just... Chaos, I'm pretty sure. And it usually taunts me in these, and then it's followed with... something that's supposed to shock me. RWBY dead or the city burning... or Pyrrha dead."

Titus was watching him closely now. "Chaos?"

Jacob shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah. The first time it was right after I found out about you Imperials. It was a dream about the Four Gods taunting me with her body. A few days later, one of Nurgle using her for a... plague zombie." He gagged as he remembered that one. "And then there was Khorne a week later doing, well, what he does best, Tzeentch doing his Chaos Spawn shenanigans... I'm not even gonna mention Slaanesh." It didn't escape him how uncomfortable Titus looked now, considering this was his goddaughter that he was talking about. "But then I went about 6 weeks without any and... and now I had another one."

Titus seemed to bristle. "What happened in it?"

"...It was basically an ensemble of everyone from Remnant dead," he said. "Hell, there were a couple of you guys too, but mostly you, Vulkan, Logan, Gabriel and Mira. And... and everyone was dead. But Pyrrha was alive, covered in bruises and such, but still alive."

He shivered as he put two and two together on the ending. "And then she was approached from behind by... by Abaddon the Despoiler. And he... he killed her with the Talon."

The storm of thought in Titus' eyes spoke more volumes than his whole body did by comparison. Something about that image—besides the obvious of his goddaughter dying to the Warmaster of Chaos—didn't sit well with the Ultramarine. Some fact that Jacob was not privy too formed the basis of his malcontent and worry, and Jacob couldn't deny that not knowing made him nervous. Then again, perhaps it was simply the presence of Chaos itself in his nightmares that upset Titus so much, considering his battle with Nemeroth in _Space Marine._ "I won't lie, that is a hell of a nightmare to have, considering everything you and I both know. Do you want to talk about it any bit?"

Jacob pondered the notion for a few seconds before he shook his head. He stood up and walked over to the window, throwing open the curtains and pulling the blinds up, letting the lamplight and the faintest vestiges of sunlight into the room. "You probably don't need to deal with my mental baggage," he replied. "I wouldn't mind talking about it, but there are more important things to get done today, what with... well, you know."

Titus nodded. "That is actually why I was coming to talk to you, funny enough."

Jacob looked over at him. "Yes?"

"There was a meeting of the Inquisition last night," he replied. "Ozpin requested that you don't attend; he's noticing your loose lips."

Jacob grimaced in thought and ire. "They needed to know Penny was an android," he replied. "It plays into _our_ plans, not necessarily his."

Titus blinked, a look of surprise on his face. Jacob found himself suddenly agreeing with Ozpin's sentiment. "Sorry," the Ultramarine said, "You told them what?"

Jacob groaned. "Never mind, he's got a point. Regardless, now they know and now we can work to help secure more data copies of her hardware and software in case something happens."

Titus looked visibly uncomfortable. "It still bothers me how we are siding with Abomin—sorry, artificial intelligence. She's a sweet girl, but I do find myself wondering if that's just manufactured by James' engineers."

Jacob scratched his chin, letting Titus' faux pas slip away. "Well, you're not wrong, but that doesn't mean that we can't try to safeguard her."

Titus gestured in agreement before sitting down in the chair at the study desk. "Anyway, the meeting last night yielded some progress. We've secured Team RWBY and JNPR as the candidates for the mission to Mountain Glenn, and Mira and I are to be the Huntsman chaperones, alongside Bartholomew."

Jacob gave Titus a concerned look. "That's a hell of a gamble, Titus. JNPR wasn't even supposed to be on that mission; it was supposed to be a single-team mission."

Titus nodded. "Consider your dream for a moment, then."

Jacob put two and two together. "Chaos Marines aren't gonna be a regular threat. Besides, all we've seen is Eliphas."

"Perhaps," Titus replied, "but Chaos has been known to attract followers wherever they go, whether bloodthirsty warriors or deranged psychopaths. Even here on Remnant."

Again, the meaning was not lost on Jacob. "Chaos Cultists?"

Titus nodded.

Jacob felt his heart start to beat harder. The notion of an army of Chaos Cultists descending on Vale put a very ugly image in his head. One too similar to that infernal nightmare. "You think that they're gonna be there with Torchwick's goons and the White Fang?"

Titus shifted, looking down at his feet for a second. "Considering the amount of activity in the Agricultural District," he said, "I wouldn't be surprised. There are Chaos symbols regularly graffitied on the walls of buildings in the town center of Redhearth, murders and assaults are becoming commonplace bearing ritualistic carvings of skulls, flames and boils, and there have been several rapes of both women and men, all of the victims left with a particular brand burned on them somewhere: A sharp-pointed hybrid of the male and female symbols."

Jacob swallowed hard as his mind painted the image. "The Mark of Slaanesh. And those others were the marks of the other three."

"Exactly. The occurrences are becoming so common that Gabriel was considering marching down there himself, Godsplitter and Tartaros armor all to snuff them out, but we convinced him to let them come to us."

"Yeah," he said absentmindedly, "It would be more beneficial if we forced them into a metaphorical killbox rather than force them to come to us, so long as they are as fervent as normal Chaos Cultists. But still," he said as he turned around and began pacing, "Putting JNPR in as well puts them in a dangerous place. It was said by the cast and crew of the show that Pyrrha was originally planned to be killed off during The Breach before they convinced Monty to have her... you know."

Titus grimaced and growled, an action that felt more at home being done by a Space Wolf than an Ultramarine. "Seems like bad decisions were abound with them."

Jacob huffed a breath of agreement. "They supposedly had their reasons," he said, "but whatever they were, they weren't paying off on it yet. I hope they start making it worth it in Volume 5 and onwards."

"Anyhow," Titus continued, "as I said, Mira and I will be aiding Professor Oobleck on this mission, helping him keep tabs on everybody. But Mira and I don't know the overall circumstances for this mission and what we need to have play out, or at least close to what plays out."

Jacob nodded as he reached over for his Terran phone. "It's all yours until you're done with what information we need; after that, I admit I kinda want it back."

Titus chuckled at his joking jab. "It's a bit smaller than a normal Scroll screen, but we shouldn't have particular problems with porting it over to a larger holovision. It seems the jacking ports are the correct variety for Remnant's, all things considered."

Jacob rolled his eyes. "Somehow I'm not surprised that the tech matches up," he said with a yawn. He had only gotten at best some six of five hours of sleep before Titus had arrived; today would probably be a day that sported a small nap somewhere, or some lingering drowsiness. "Outside of you guys catching up on the actual _RWBY_ series, what else is there to plan for the day?"

Titus nodded again. "Vulkan wants to have you come down to his shop for a brief bit sometime today," he replied, "said that he had some upgrades he wanted to give Cadia before the mission and the battle. Give it a bit of the Salamander touch and what not, I presume."

Jacob felt his interest pique. He hadn't been to Firedrake Forgeworks in well over two months, and now he was being asked back there for an upgrade to Cadia. "Did he say anything about what kind of upgrade?"

He only got a shake of Titus' head in response.

Jacob hummed in thought. "Interesting. What else for today?"

"Not much else today, outside of a few more spars, classes... uhm, what else. Oh, yes, and I needed to speak with our Valkyrie pilot about arming up in secret, once things get hairy."

Jacob had to clench his jaw to stop it from dropping in shock. "Wait, what? You mean the... the Valkyrie I saw a few days ago..."

"Of course," the Ultramarine replied. "You don't think Remnant has such a craft when they already have the bulbous Bullhead, right?"

Jacob blinked as he remembered how Titus had mentioned that the Inquisitorial Valkyrie that he had left Graia on had managed to arrive with them. "That thing flying overhead had scared the Jesus out of me a few days ago. How's it that Ironwood hasn't clamored to get his hands on the thing?"

"Believe me," Titus replied, "when is he not? I have to keep the keys on me at all times to avoid him confiscating it 'in the name of Atlas and the world.' Remnant does not need something as advanced as an Imperial Valkyrie flying around en masse under James' banner."

Jacob swallowed hard at the idea of a fleet of Valkyries decked out in Atlesian colors flying high through the not-so-friendly skies of Remnant like a great horde of white and black eagles on the hunt. "I can see why you'd do that."

Titus nodded. "Outside of some refurbishments Mira and I performed in secret to make it Dust-compatible, she remains the same vessel. Even the Machine Spirit remains, though even now it squawks in defiance every so often when we load something that isn't Munitorum standard issue."

Jacob returned the nod from earlier. "Well, all of that sounds like a good idea," he said, "considering that we have... what the hell was it?" He turned to look down at his Scroll, spotting the date. August 25th. Two—technically one and three-quarters—days left before the day of the missions. "Considering we have a bit under two days left, we probably need to start making contingents, right?"

"Logan was already thinking that. He's planning to spend his time tomorrow planning out civilian escape routes, firing lines for Huntsman and police, corralling zones based on the old subway centers between Vale's central stations and the Mountain Glenn facilities, so on and so forth. Both Gabriel and Vulkan will be helping him out later this evening, after their tasks have been completed; in theory, that should be enough to get the job done."

Jacob watched Titus as the Ultramarine began to channel Roboute Guilliman, if not directly than by the nature of how analytical that string of words had been. "Considering you guys are the centuries-old tacticians and I'm not even past two decades old, yeah, I'm definitely letting you guys take the wheel."

"Right." Titus stood back up from his seat at Jacob's desk. "Alright, get something to eat and meet us at Firedrake Forgeworks at oh-eight-hundred hours. I asked Oobleck to excuse you for the morning class, so that detail is cleared up."

Jacob grimaced as he stretched, the light in the room gradually growing brighter, though still no shadows of the blinds appeared—Volume 2 animation was starting to bug him quite a bit on those details he missed from home. "I hope they don't start the lessons on The Great War without me, I wanna know just how close this war was to Earth's World Wars."

Titus seemed to light up with curiosity. "You mean the Unification Wars?"

Jacob shook his head. "No, no, little to no info on the Unification Wars exist in Black Library writings back home. I'm talking the World Wars of the 20th Century. It's a bit of a long story, and I can regale you with it another time."

Titus nodded. "Very well. I'll see you over there; I need to talk with Mira first, concerning JNPR."

"Right. I'll see you there."

Titus nodded once, a faint smile on his face as he did so. For a second, Jacob wondered is Titus was seeing him as a student, or more akin to a colleague. "See you there," he said, closing the door behind him with the gentleness of a breeze.

Jacob turned and began to check on everything. A quick shower and dressing later, he was standing in the center of his room, his mind still running the nightmare over and over and over again with a fervor bordering on obsession.

He reached for Cadia, currently resting beside his desk with its teeth facing in towards the wall as he picked it up and cradled it as if it were a relic of an age long past. Even after his desperate scrubbing of it the day after the bomb attack, even in the clunky visual renders of Volume 2 animation, he still saw rings of blood specks here and there along the casing where he had split that Faunus woman's side wide open with Cadia's teeth. It was unnerving that such a detail remained of that.

In his mind, Abaddon was slicing Pyrrha's throat again with the Talon. His grip unconsciously tightened on Cadia's hilt. He shook his head as he spun the chainsword in his hand, flicking his wrist as he finished the motion to transform the sword into its gun form.

He checked his Scroll. 5:45.

"Time to get ready for the day."

* * *

A few minutes passed and he was walking into the cafeteria, the sun just beginning to peak past the edge of the horizon. Most students didn't wake quite this early by all accounts—a few early mornings like this had taught him the general traffic patterns of the school months prior—but there were a few, though he didn't pay attention to faces. Most, he knew, were kids just about his age, and by most people's mindset more akin to being his peers. But, funny enough, he really didn't consider making any potential allies among their ranks. Sure, a few of those teams were even older and more experienced than Team CFVY, borderline graduates as of the upcoming spring, but most of them would have thought him crazy, not to mention they would have gone to Ozpin the second he spilled the beans.

He grabbed a tray and soon after loaded a quick breakfast of a ham shank, eggs and potatoes and began to make his way towards his usual spot at the end of RWBY and JNPR's table. Of course, it was 6:10 by now, and while most of them were up at a decent hour, rolling them out on a Wednesday morning so early before their big mission, he had his doubts that they were going to be up at this hour in the morning.

His gaze locked on the table, and that notion jumped out the window and fled into the sunrise.

"That sounds like it was awful, Jaune," said Ruby as she hugged herself tightly with her cape.

"Yeah, no kidding," said Nora from his side, eyeing him worriedly. "Did you watch a scary movie while we weren't paying attention last night?"

"I don't recall seeing Mr. Arc leave for any extended enough time to go and view a movie, nor did he access his Scroll while we were conversing."

Jaune wasn't alone when he drew his tired gaze up to their newest—and frankly oddest—member to their merry band of misfits. Jacob felt like rubbing both of his eyes in disbelief as he saw Penny Polendina sitting with them at the head of the table, sandwiched right between Jaune and Ruby as she sat in a makeshift seat just like his own. In fact, he spotted a familiar set of initials on the back of the chair.

He smirked bemusedly through his mental confusion. "Why the blood-soaked Hell are they up so early... and Penny's got the extra chair... This I need to see for myself."

He began walking towards them as they continued chatting, an air of concern swirling around them. At the epicenter was Jaune and Pyrrha, the former in particular; at first glance, he seemed only slightly downtrodden, inciting Jacob to think that his advances had been rejected by Weiss yet again. _No, that can't be right, Weiss is right there across from Ren where Blake normally sits, he wouldn't openly sulk in front of her,_ he thought to himself as he approached. _Didn't sleep well or something?_ It was at this point some fifteen feet out that he noticed faint lines beneath Jaune's eyes, and a general droopiness to his features. Whatever it was had cost him much more sleep than their original retiring hour sometime close to 11:00 that prior evening.

"I take it one or more of you didn't sleep particularly well," he said as he walked up to them, grabbing their attention away from the android girl. "If I'm looking at Jaune correctly, someone clearly was up a little too late in the morning."

There was a collective greeting from everyone, though Penny's stood out as she commented, "Hello, Jacob! I hope you don't mind that I commandeered your fold-up chair."

"Not at all, Penny," he replied. "I'll just grab another—"

"It's alright," she said, "I have no necessity to sit down considering my lack of physical tire." She promptly stood back up and offered him the seat.

Jacob sighed. "Thanks, Penny," he said, "but you should probably avoid looking completely odd to the rest of the school." He punctuated his sentence by point a finger over his shoulder to the other teams in the cafeteria.

Penny blinked before she processed what he was suggesting. "Fair enough," she said. "Ruby, might I sit where Miss Belladonn—Sorry, where Blake normally sits?"

"Oh, yeah! Blake's not here, so nothing really stopping you," Ruby replied sheepishly.

Penny smiled brightly as she zipped around the side of the table and sat down right between Yang and Weiss, a stance of prim and properness as she sat with them. Jacob would have joked about how much sugar he was getting just from being in the presence of her innocent cuteness, but his joke died on his lips as his eyes returned to Jaune. "So, you stay up last night."

Pyrrha interjected on Jaune's behalf. "Jaune had a nightmare last night, and it's been eating at him for most of the morning."

Jacob felt his stomach clench. "Nightmare? Really? What was it about?"

Jaune seemed to hesitate, only for Pyrrha to place a hand over his own. "It involved all of us. And some of our friends and... well—"

"They were all dead, weren't they," Jacob said. In his mind, the Talon of Horus rent through the air on a collision with the girl sitting across from him. "We were all dead."

The table seemed to go quiet as they watched him, revelation crossing each of their faces at their own pace. "You had the same dream," Pyrrha said, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Wow," Nora said, leaning her head on her propped-up arm. "What are those morbid odds?"

Jacob turned to Jaune. "Well, let's be sure here really quick. Fact check: started with pitch black darkness, right? And then... Crowd of the dead?"

He nodded as he said, "Yeah, exactly."

"And Pyrrha was singled out?"

Pyrrha lit up with surprise, a motion that was joined by Jaune, Yang and Ruby. "Me?"

Jaune looked mildly shocked. "Y-yeah," he said. "Something, or more like someone big and evil, and he came with a—"

"With a giant clawed hand," Jacob interrupted. "And a really evil-looking sword, right?"

Jaune shook at the mention of the clawed hand. "Yeah. But I don't understand," he said, "I've never seen those things before. Who was that? Was that even a person?"

"Perhaps you've both seen a movie with that character," Ren offered. "Everyone knows how much you enjoy movies, Jaune."

Jacob held his tongue as he processed Jaune's words. Jaune had received a nightmare, the same as his own, complete with Ezekyle Abaddon, the Warmaster of Chaos. How did that happen?! How did Jaune dream of the Warmaster when he didn't know anything about Warhammer other than what he had told them from that one game all those weeks ago?

"Jacob?"

He looked up at his name being called by Ruby. She, Yang and Pyrrha were offering him worried looks not unlike the one they had given Jaune. This time however, the collective stare seemed to be tinged with something. A sense of wanting to pry a truth from him.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Not gonna lie, that's kinda freaking me out."

"Does... this person sound familiar to you," Pyrrha asked.

Jacob grimaced. Did he tell them here and now about Abaddon? Was Abaddon even a threat at this point? Why did they share that dream of all things?

"It's probably a mental construct they share," offered Penny, a slight tone of urgency to her voice. She was trying to cover for him. "Atlas scientists recently began studies into common dreams and Aura shares; perhaps since Ms. Nikos awakened both of your Auras, it could have something to do with that..."

That only made Jacob's stomach clench further. If that was the case, that only brought further questions that led to potentially horrifying answers of their own.

"But," she began, confused as much as he was, "I've never seen anyone like that, not even with the other students at Sanctum Academy."

That didn't snuff out Jacob's concern. "Still... he sounds familiar now that I think more on it," he lied, his stomach roiling angrily at his decision. "I'll check where I think I've seen him. Unfortunately, it's not right out of the gate; I've got a bit of a busy morning." He swallowed a load of hash browns off his fork, almost absentmindedly. "Titus excused me from Oobleck's class today; Vulkan wanted to have me drop by his forge before our first mission. Show me how to work on my blade, I guess, he didn't say what exactly I'd be doing there."

The mood of the table seemed to rise as they listened to him. "Interesting that he'd call you out from class," Weiss commented. "Not like you need the studies or anything."

Her snide comment made him chuckle. "Don't think I don't like losing out on today's lesson," he said. "I've been wanting to hear about the Great War for some time; losing out on that's gonna be a bitch."

"You'd figure that every corner of Remnant would have heard the stories of the Great War."

He started at the sudden ringing out of Blake's voice, and the rest of the table did so. He only had a second to dart his gaze about like a laser pointer hyped on coffee before he saw a streak of black past behind RWBY's side of the table. Blake was carrying her tray as she power walked past them, an echo of s scowl across her face, coupled with the smallest signs on deep bags under her eyes.

"Blake," Yang said aloud, scrambling out of her seat to try and stop Blake. "Come on, Blake, what are you doing? Where are you going?"

Blake turned her head, the bags under her eyes giving her a sunken look that made her scowl even more off-putting. "The Library," she said. "I need to check up on the news, see if I can find any leads."

Jacob leaned on his arm, resting his cheek in his palm. "You could always get a newspaper and bring it here," he said dryly. "It's no fun eating alone."

She let out an audible scoff and rolled her eyes as she began to turn around. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I have more important things to deal with than having fun."

Yang seemed to dart forwards as Blake began to walk away. "Blake, stop-"

"No," Blake said harshly, stopping the blonde bruiser in her tracks. "Unless you're going to help me with finding out where they're hiding, I'd much rather work alone. I'll see you guys at class."

No said a word as she quickly walked away, an air of frustration to her very posture. Yang stood quietly, letting her partner walk away unopposed.

"That White Fang attack really hit her hard, didn't it," Jaune said quietly. Jacob only nodded in reply.

"Somebody needs to talk to her," Weiss commented. "We tried, but it never seemed to stick with her, and it's showing; her grade's slipping, she barely sleeps, she's constantly angry, the list goes on."

Ruby seemed to slump in disappointment. "Why won't she just take some time to recover," she moaned disparately. "We can't function as a team if she can't work with us."

Yang stood there, watching the ghost of Blake walking away. Jacob felt his concern rising, the ghost of a dis-armed Yang flashing past his memory. "Well, I know one thing, I don't think I can get through to her," he said with a huff. "I'm the reason this shit happened that's making her like this. There's only one person I think who can get through to her."

No one had a particularly confused look as they turned to the one person who could. Yang turned back to them, a look in her eyes that held a fire.

"Already two steps ahead of you," she said, cracking her knuckles with a concerned grimace.

* * *

Yang wasn't one for stealthy stuff. Deception was never one of her strong suits, in the sense that while she was okay with it, she didn't like it, nor did she have any skill in it. Considering her fighting style, her tendency to mouth off, so on and so forth, even she was well aware of how much she sucked at being sneaky. As such, she had long since opted to swing in reverse and be the boisterous and bombastic bruiser every saw her as. She didn't pretend that she was any bit anything else; she was always the party girl in the public eye, and she worked that image in her favor.

But the façade, for how true it was, was never the whole story.

She wasn't just a party girl and a floosy blonde like most people thought. The fact that she usually was second best in test scores of her team—third right behind Jacob if he was accounted for—was always something she took pride in. She wasn't as much a party animal as most thought either; She'd been Ruby's big sister and take on some of the same tasks as her mother was supposed to be for her baby sister. She had to grow up somewhat faster than most, but she didn't ignore how much she still enjoyed life like any young adult did.

But she always took pride in that truth that, behind the party girl, she at least had her moments of intellect and... well, a maternal instinct awake from day one.

Now, she was having to put those to use in order.

She was standing behind one of the bookshelves in the Library, hiding as best as she could. The morning sun was almost a decent height into the sky, staring down upon Remnant with a warm morning glow. The Library was cast in warm glows and long shadows, giving her a few places to hide as a result. She poked her head out from the side of the bookshelf, looking around for her Faunus companion.

 _Damn it, Blake,_ she thought to herself as she didn't spot her, _where did you go?_

She growled in annoyance as she spotted a few other familiar faces. Velvet and Coco perusing a selection of Grimm research papers, Aqua and her boyfriend Grenwin being their usual adorable selves—even Yang didn't deny they were cute—but no sign of Blake.

She walked out and continued looking, eyes scanning the room for any sign of a black bow where cut kitty ears should have been. "I should have grabbed someone before I went looking for her alone."

Another five minutes passed, and in those five minutes she continued to stew over her partner's activity as of late. Yang couldn't deny that while Roman and the White Fang were a big threat, she and the team really couldn't afford getting too preoccupied with those guys. They had to focus on school, or their efforts were going to be futile at best, if not counterproductive.

She knew how that sort of thing went all too well.

She glanced towards the lab's Tabletops. She spotted Blake, facing away from her as she sat hunched over the screen. She could spot the home page of the Vale News Network on the screen even from 15 feet or so away, flashing any reports that had come up.

Yang scrambled behind a bookshelf, hoping Blake hadn't heard her. She peaked her head out again. Blake remained fixed on the screen.

Yang felt a pang of worry. She swallowed hard at the sight as she reached into her jacket's breast pocket for something she had asked to borrow from Yatsu.

The silver shape of his laser pointer sat in her hand as she aimed it just right. After all, if Blake seemed to zone out when catnip was around and loved Fish Fridays, surely this would be something that got her attention.

She clicked the end of the light.

A red dot showed up on the screen. Blake stopped.

Yang felt the tiniest grin cross her features. _Got it._

She moved it just slightly, a tiny twitch across the screen. Blake's left ear flicked like an annoyed cat's.

Yang didn't stop the grin of satisfaction from growing on her face. She twitched it onto Blake's hand, only to watch Blake's other hand paw at it like it offended her. She heard an annoyed groan.

She moved the dot down to the ground, just at Blake's feet. The Faunus girl growled in annoyance and stood up with a stiff and angry stance to her posture. Yang ducked behind the bookshelf, sticking her hand out just right to keep the laser pointer out where Blake could see the dot. The Faunus girl continued to grumble, the sound of a shoe stamping once as if she were trying to step on the offending light.

The steps grew closer and Yang stood up, backing away and bringing the dot into the bookshelves. Blake followed quickly, not even seeming to notice her partner; it was almost—no, it _was—_ hilarious how she was focused on the dot.

Yang snapped the light off as Blake almost ran into her, barely holding a laugh. She did manage to channel it into a bright and cheery smile. "Hello~!"

Blake started as if reality had snapped back to her. "Wha-what? What are you—!?"

Yang reached out and grabbed her hand. "We need to talk." Before Blake could argue against it, Yang had taken a leaping rush forwards, dragging her along to their destination.

"Wait, Yang," Blake called out, but Yang wasn't having any of it. They zipped through the corridors past students and a few of the teachers, almost running into Professor Port as well. After a minute or two, Yang finally turned into one of the empty classrooms designed for additional staff and students from the other school; for the morning there was no class in this room, leaving it empty and free for Yang to use. Exactly what she needed.

Yang found herself breathing harder than normal as she stopped in the center of the room, Blake doubled over beside her. "Yang," she said through gasps. "What the hell!?"

Yang let out a chuckle, though she ignored it as if it were a rhetorical question. "Easy there, Blake. Like I said, I wanted to talk about some things. About you."

As she leapt up into the lecture table and sat down cross-legged, Blake let out an angry scoff. "Yang, I don't have time to talk, okay? if you're going to tell me to stop, you may as well save your breath."

"I don't want you to stop; I want you to slow down."

Blake began to pace angrily, a scowl across her face. "I _don't_ have the luxury to slow down."

Yang furrowed her brow in annoyance. This starting to become too familiar. "It's not a luxury; it's a necessity."

"The 'necessity' is stopping Torchwick," Blake bit back.

"And we're going to," Yang said in an attempt to calm her partner down, "But first you have to sit down and listen to what I have to say." She motioned for Blake to sit on the table too beside her.

Blake seemed to hesitate, watching Yang as if she would break out laughing in a joke. Finally, she sighed and sat down beside Yang as if she were riding a horse side-saddle.

Yang let out a deep breath, letting her mind wander back to memories of her past. "Ruby and I grew up in Patch, the island off the coast of Vale. You know the one, right?"

Blake nodded. "I saw it when I first arrived in Vale with Adam. Seems like a cozy place to live and grow up on," she said, visibly tensing up at the mention of that name. Yang didn't want to dwell on why she was reacting like that.

"Yeah. Our parents were Huntsmen. Our dad taught at Signal, and our mom took on missions around the kingdom. Her name was Summer Rose, and she was, like... Super-Mom: Baker of cookies and slayer of giant monsters."

Yang's mind went back to those distant memories; Her and Summer baking up a dozen only to find Ruby licking the spoon eagerly, the three of them playing tag in the yard. Summer had always been such a mother to both of them. But the memories began to grow dark as the rest of the story unfolded. "And then... one day she left for a mission and never came back. It was tough. Ruby was really torn up, but... I think she was still too young to really get what was going on, y'know? And my dad just kind of... shut down. It wasn't long before I learned why."

Blake's left eyebrow shot up in confusion. "I can understand why; that's horrible to imagine losing your spouse like that."

Yang shook her head. "That wasn't all of it. Summer wasn't the first love he lost; she was the second. The first... was my mom."

Blake's brow shot up in surprise. "I... you and Ruby aren't full-blood sisters? I never could have imagined that."

Yang felt that defensive instinct flare up again, but she heeded it no mind for now. "He wouldn't tell me everything, but I learned that the two of them had been on a team together with Summer and my uncle Qrow. Apparently, she'd left me with my dad right after I was born. No one had seen her since."

Blake started to hug herself. "Why did she leave you?"

Yang sighed as she got up from her seat and grabbed a piece of chalk. "That question... Why? I didn't know an answer, but I was determined to find out. It was all I thought about. I would ask anyone I could about what they knew about her."

Almost absentmindedly, she began to draw, her mind closing in on the memory of that one particular day. She remembered being seven when it happened, a little girl with blonde pigtails and lilac eyes in a pair of shorts and a brown and yellow shirt.

"Then, one day... I found something. What I thought was a clue that could lead me to answers, or maybe even my mother."

Her memory was becoming more and more clear the closer she got to that moment; she could remember the little details now, albeit sparingly. She continued to draw. "I waited for Dad to leave the house, put Ruby in a wagon, and headed out. I must've walked for hours. I had cuts and bruises, I was totally exhausted, but I wasn't gonna let anything stop me."

She was starting to get lost in her memories, _the little red wagon clear as day now with her baby sister sleeping in it as seven-year old Yang dragged it along through briars and brambles for hours and hours. The day began to turn into evening as the forest began to die off, the fall weather stripping the leaves from the trees and leaving a mass of skeletal hands threatening her younger self; this was a time before she had no control of her fear, so her little mind began to race with fears of monsters rising up out of the thicket and eating her before she could get to Mom._

"When we finally got there, I could barely stand, but I didn't care; I had made it."

 _A rickety old building, made of splintering wood and cracked windows, a dry husk that had once held life of some manner, but was long since abandoned._

"And then I saw them. "

 _A growl from the woods. She turned as she felt fear grip her heart and numb her mind on top of the exhaustion._

"Those _burning_ red eyes..."

 _She couldn't move, every nerve in her legs burning from the long walk, her heart hammering from exhaustion and terror, her eyes wide and a scream on her lips that died before it could pass her teeth._

"There we were: A toddler sleeping in the back of a wagon and a stupid girl too exhausted to even cry for help. We might as well have been served on a silver platter."

Her grip was ironclad by now, the chalk taking the full brunt of her fingers' strength.

 _The Beowolves jumped, teeth flashing in the rising moonlight._ _She had waited for the inevitable, shutting her eyes the moment their bodies had begun flying forwards, all the while her little girl mind conjuring up every terrified prayer she could muster, every verbal curse about herself that a seven-year-old girl would know._

 _She waited for them to land on her, to hear her baby sister scream in horror as she was awoken to the last sight of a Beowolf standing over her—_

 _ **SCHWING!**_

Yang started from her memories with a simple blink. She stared up at the chalk drawing she had made; it was a Beowolf, white skull on its face and all, being sliced in half by silhouette with spiky hair and a massive scythe.

She shook her head. "But, as luck would have it, our uncle showed up just in time. Ruby and I always looked up to him so much, especially after that despite his... well, self-destructive tendencies, but..."

Yang didn't like saying what she always thought about that day. It hung too close to her, the memory of her little toddler sister sleeping soundly in the back of that wagon as the Beowolves closed in.

Her voice was quiet like a whisper on the wind. "But, truth be told... my stubbornness should've gotten us killed that night."

The room became silent as the grave. She didn't look back to see what Blake's face looked like at the moment.

"Yang... I'm sorry that happened to you, and I understand what you're trying to tell me," Blake said, "but this is different. I'm not a child, and this isn't just a search for answers! I can't just—"

Yang felt a stir of anger in her chest. She clenched her fists on instinct, the motion second nature. "I _told_ you: I'm not telling you to stop! I haven't!" She glanced back for but a second behind her, a furrow on her brow. Her partner was now back on her feet, right behind her as a matter of fact. "To this day, I _still_ want to know what happened to my mother and why she left me, but I will never let that search control me. We're going to find the answers we're looking for, Blake. But if we destroy ourselves in the process, what good are we?"

"You don't understand! I'm the only one who can do this!"

Now the anger came ringing back, biting at the front of her mind like a starving animal. She felt her eyes turn red—that brief heat in her eyes that signaled the change. "No, _you_ don't understand!" She pointed to the doorway. "If Roman or this Adam guy walked through that door, what would you do?!"

Blake gave her an angry grimace, though Yang could see the tinge of fear in her eyes from that last name. "I'd fight them!"

Yang scoffed. "You'd _lose,"_ she shouted, punctuating her point by shoving Blake back into the table.

Blake shoved back, only to fail to even muster enough inertia to move Yang. "I can stop Roman at least!"

Yang was getting very angry now. She shoved again. "You can't even stop me!"

Blake landed against the table, bracing herself as she desperately tried to get back up. Yang felt her anger abate, replaced by tire and that same maternal instinct resurging from earlier. She walked up to Blake, the Faunus girl's head downturned as if she were about to cry, her bangs hiding her eyes.

Yang felt that pang of horrid guilt for just a second as she watched her partner sit there, looking defeated and beaten. She didn't stop her body as it went in for a hug. Her eyes were closed, but she still felt Blake recoil a smidge in evident surprise.

"I'm not asking you to stop," she said so quietly, barely above a coo of a dove; even to her this was really unusual. "Just please... get some rest. Not just for you, but for the people you care about."

She kept the hug going, letting Blake soak in the hug. She worried in the back of her mind that perhaps she was over-stepping her bounds, that considering how Blake was she might recoil or double down on her reactions.

She felt arms around her lower back. Yang started and opened her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Blake said, barely above a whisper. "I just... I don't want people getting hurt."

Yang felt her heart beat a little faster. She squeezed just a little harder. "I know, Blake... but we can't run ourselves ragged trying to find them. Besides," she said, "I'd been meaning to tell you this before you left the cafeteria; I think we found something courtesy of one of the Professors."

Blake did a double take. "Wait, what!?"

"Pyrrha overheard Professor Ultramar and Ms. Ultramar at breakfast," she said. "Something she had heard about White Fang and Eightfold Path activity in the southeast outside the city."

Blake seemed to take a legitimate minute processing this information, holding her chin and beginning to pace. "That would put them in the area of Mountain Glenn," she deduced after a minute of ponderance. "Why would they meet there? There's nothing of value in that town."

Mountain Glenn. Yang had heard the stories told by survivors and Huntsmen, and each one chilled her heart. No one would dare venture there unless they were mad or suicidal.

"A perfect place to hide," Yang thought aloud with a shrug. "Just before I left to get you, Jacob started talking about the idea of putting in for a mission in that area," she said. "I only caught that and JNPR offering to join in before I went for you."

Blake sighed, halfway between tire, relief and annoyance. "That still doesn't explain why, though."

Yang nodded. "And we'll figure out why when we go on that mission." She put a hand on Blake's shoulder. "But for now, let's just get through class today and rest up."

Blake's eyes darted about in thought, visibly weighing her options. In the back of her mind, Yang hoped that her words would get through to Blake. If anything, this info should have put her at some ease... right?

A tired sigh from Blake was her answer. "You're right. Rest up, finish class for today, and then deal with the mission when it arrives."

Yang smiled, the worried weight lifting from her heart. She patted Blake's shoulder. "Good," she said. "We should probably get back to the gang."

Blake smiled. "Right. I need to apologize to Jacob for snapping at him like I did."

Yang felt levity begin to rise in her heart. "Just him? What about me," she said, feigning a snobby socialite's voice as she rested a daintily-posed hand on the point where her cups met, "Your comment was most uncouth of such a fine lady as you!"

Blake rose a brow and giggled. "A 'fine lady' like me, is it?"

Yang felt her stomach drop "Uhhh... let me rephrase that."

Blake broke out in laughter. Her partner's laughter built the urge in her throat with ease, leading her into her own burst of laughter.

The orange light began to fade, replaced with the bright light of a normal day. Everything felt just right.

* * *

"You see what I mean, right: Not too hot, not too cold—"

"The temperature is just right."

"Exactly."

The boy shook his head, a laugh squeezing past his mouth. Vulkan turned his head and glanced at him. "What's so funny?"

Jacob turned to look at him, only flinching a bit halfway through as a cinder sparked and flew past him. "It's nothing, Vulkan. Just old memories."

Vulkan hummed in understanding. He wasn't unfamiliar with that kind of memory. He turned his attention back to his prized forge, the great maw of the firedrake cast in concrete and iron and the great fire roaring in its mouth. "The flame is perfect temperature now," he said, grabbing a poker from the side and thrusting the steel rod in to stoke the embers some more, "and the steel should begin melting here in a minute or so."

Jacob hummed, a look of worry in his eyes. "Remind me again why we're melting steel and gold for a cosmetic upgrade when we have less than 48 hours until the big mission?"

Vulkan laughed. "One is cosmetic," he said, "and the other is functional."

Jacob sighed. "And I thought the Dark Angels tended to love secrets."

There was that comment again about the First Legion. Vulkan grimaced slightly; he didn't care much for them, but he did still respect their efforts in the name of the Imperium. "Abashing the First Legion is something not many of us condone, Mr. Muller, especially since there are none of their rank here that can speak in their defense."

Jacob shook his head. "Well, here's the thing," he said as he stepped a bit closer, running his arm across his brow as the fire cast him in yellows and reds. "The Dark Angels are probably the second coolest of the 'Deviant' Codices out there for Loyalist Marines. Where my little brother adores the Blood Angels—and I myself do like them a lot too—I can't help but get a laugh at the Dark Angels' ridiculous grimness; the war cries, the aesthetic, the fact that their highest members are named for angels and devils of Christianity."

Vulkan felt a brow raise. "Christianity? Is that the religion of mankind in the Age of Terra?"

Jacob shook his head. " _One_ of them," he said. "And it was still around in some form or another by the time of the Great Crusade. Ollanius Pius called it Catherism while he was around, but most people who've read that story believe he was talking about Catholicism, the biggest of the branches."

Vulkan kept his surprise off his face, letting it sit in his mind to digest later. "Interesting. But that doesn't excuse the jabs at the Dark Angels."

Jacob sighed. "So, then, I take it none of you have read the Codex for them, huh?"

Vulkan shook his head. "It has been the least of our concerns, honestly."

"Fair enough. I suppose I should at least give you the lowdown before I go and tell the rest of our little coven too."

Vulkan rose a brow at that.

Jacob rolled his eyes, almost as if he was hesitant to say anything. "Should we find a Dark Angel running around Remnant, you didn't here this from me, but the reason for their weird habits is... well... they're kinda embarrassed—hell, embarrassed is putting it lightly— _ashamed,_ that's the better word, of what happened with their Legion during the Heresy."

"This you already mentioned during our interrupted lunch," Vulkan pointed out, stoking the flames again.

"Right. Well," Jacob began, rubbing his hands together, "The reason for that embarrassment is that, well... they found themselves in a bit of an inter-Legion civil war between Loyalists and Traitors that spilled out into open conflict. And it kinda cost them Caliban... and almost the Lion himself as well."

Vulkan found himself doing a double take. "Really? A full civil war?"

"Yeah," the boy replied. "Luther and his men sided their loyalties with Horus and the rest of the Traitors, while El' Jonson and his flock stuck to their guns with the Imperium, despite The Lion's regular commentary about The Big E's method of rulership. They started a resistance on Caliban and it boiled over until someone set off some kind of doomsday device buried in the core of the planet."

Vulkan blinked in surprise. "Why would they seek to keep that a secret in the first place? All of the Legions had both Loyalists and Traitors alike in their ranks."

"Pride drives men to do stupid things, Forgemaster," the boy responded, looking down at his watch. "It doesn't help that this event led to the Lion's disappearance and the formation of their greatest obsession: The Fallen."

At the mention of the First Primarch's disappearance, Vulkan found himself frowning in confusion. "But The Lion was present on Terra in the aftermath of the Siege and the Scouring," he said. "The archived pictures from the aftermath confirm it. How could it have been during the Heresy?"

Jacob turned to Vulkan, a confused look on his face as well. "Huh. I'm probably the one mistaken."

Vulkan hummed as he turned an eye to the gold. "So, tell me, why were the Fallen their obsession? Who are The Fallen anyhow?"

"Survivors from Luther's faction," Jacob replied, leaning towards the flames slightly. Vulkan shot a hand out and gently nudged him to retract that lean. He looked up, a glint of embarrassment to his eyes. "Sorry. Anyhow, the Dark Angels see them as a constant reminder of their failures and that horrid betrayal. It's a black mark on their reputation, and it haunts them daily, especially considering how superstitious the Imperium is nowadays."

Vulkan didn't need to think particularly hard about that connotation. "They would have been seen as traitors and cast out of the Imperium," he deduced. " _Excommunicate Traitoris._ At least, that's what they fear. _"_ Vulkan glanced inside the forge, spotting the gold; it was starting to glow a bit. He grabbed a pair of tongs and reached in for the gold-filled crucible, gingerly pulling it out.

"When they're not seeing it as a stain on their pride, and that's considering only their elite forces" Jacob added. "The only Angels who know about the truth are the First Company and most times the Captains and Chaplains of the Chapter and its successors. The rest don't know the full truth about their Legion history. The call it the Inner Circle, funny enough."

Vulkan laughed. "Small galaxy, all things considered. So all of the Chapters of Dark Angel lineage know the truth? Interesting that they haven't been found out. The Lion would be proud."

"Funny thing about that," he said "When he finally wakes up, they'll probably find he's gonna be proud of their hunt but will probably still berate them a smidge for it."

Vulkan was setting the crucible down as he heard that sentence. "What do you mean 'when he finally wakes up'? There's never been anything to indicate the Lion is still alive."

Jacob rocked on his heels. "That's because of the Angels' little alien servants, the Watchers in the Dark, have been keeping secrets from even them."

Vulkan looked up in surprise, his lone heart jumping at the implication.

Jacob continued. "While the Dark Angels managed to successfully capture and imprison Luther, keeping him locked away in the deepest, darkest cell of The Rock where their Interrogator-Chaplains practice and earn their stripes... there's a cell that not even the Chapter Master and the Reclusiam know about."

Vulkan felt his jaw drop and his heart skip a beat. "Lion El' Jonson?... is alive?"

Jacob nodded as he kept his eye on the steel. "Alive, but comatose inside The Rock. The Watchers have been tending to him in secret since he was spat out by the Warp, tending to his wounds both physical and psychic if I remember right. Problem is that not even they know how to wake him up."

Vulkan took his free hand and ran it over his bald head, taking in that detail. Some part of him dared to ask another question he hadn't considered until now. "What of the other missing Primarchs? Has there been any word?"

Jacob grimaced. "Corvus is still lost in the Warp; most people think Leman's chasing Magnus through the Empyrean; uh, some people think Dorn's still alive and in hiding somewhere on Terra, and a few are wondering if Jaghatai Khan is currently imprisoned in Commorragh."

Vulkan He'Stan shuddered at the mention of that accursed name; even into the 41st Millennium it was not uncommon for the Drukhari to invade and capture natives of Nocturne for their slave pits and torture chambers. "And what of my namesake? What of the Firedrake?"

His heart sank with his gaze as Jacob shook his head with closed eyes. "No word on the Primarch Vulkan," he replied. "Some theorize he's residing on some planet in the Warp awaiting the call of his sons for his aid. Others still believe that, due to a quote from a recent novel, he's sitting inside of Trazyn the Infinite's collection—"

Vulkan's head snapped up. For the first time in ages he had heard that name, and he felt his blood start to boil. "Trazyn!?"

Jacob leapt like a startled cat. "Y-yeah, the Necron Lord—"

Vulkan raised a hand, stopping the sentence in its tracks. He began to massage his forehead. "I know who Trazyn is, Jacob," he said in nearly a rumbling voice. "Because of him, the Salamanders were beset in a ten-year long war for a Relic of Vulkan that he didn't even have."

Jacob's eyes went wide. "You're joking."

"I wish I was."

"That absolute mechanical cunt!"

Vulkan felt his grip tighten on his nose bridge. "Do you know for a fact that my gene-father is the one that sits in his collection?"

Jacob was quiet for a few moments, the only sound that he made was a hard gulp. "Uh... no. The only thing we know is that this person is massive and wears 'baroque power armor.' outside of that... no, we don't know."

Vulkan felt the pressure growing in his brow peak and begin to rapidly drop off. "I suppose that is better than a pure confirmation that it is," he said. "I'm sorry you had to see me like that; Trazyn is the one being in our Galaxy that truly boils my blood on a personal level. Even more so than that traitor Nihilan."

Jacob said nothing, though it was evident that he was still on edge. There was a redness to his cheeks, though Vulkan couldn't tell if it was from the heat or embarrassment. "Looks like, uh, the steel's looking close to melting. I'll, uh, I'll pull it out."

Vulkan raised a hand to stop him. "Let me see here really quickly if it is ready." He stood back up at his full height, letting the grip on his bridge drop off as he turned to observe the metal. Sure enough, it was nearly white-hot and the form was starting to warp from the heat. The Salamander nodded and reached in with the tongs, pulling the metal out and setting it on the anvil across from the forge.

Jacob let out a sigh. "Sorry about pushing those buttons, Vulkan. I didn't know that you and Trazyn had history."

He'Stan sighed in reply, nodding his head. "I wouldn't be surprised that you didn't know. I doubt those events were actively recorded in your version of the Black Library." He turned back to give Jacob a reassuring look. "There's nothing to apologize for, Jacob."

Jacob nodded, his eyes denoting his lost-in-thought status. "Right... fair enough." He blinked once, twice, three times and joined the Forgemaster by the anvil, staring at the glowing piece of metal. Even in the dim red and orange light of the forge, the metal glowed a white hot edged with the yellows of a sun.

"Perfect," Vulkan said with a relieved sigh. "I was worried that we were going to pull it too late."

Jacob made a small sound as if he were about to say something. "So, if the gold is for cosmetics," he said with a questioning tone, "What practical measure did we need the steel for again?"

Vulkan smiled just slightly, leaving a ghost of a smile on his face. He reached over and grabbed Jacob's chainsword, Cadia, feeling the basic steel and carbon fiber grip that gave it a grasping surface for the boy to work off of. He grimaced as he felt the grip and looked over at Jacob's hand resting on the point of the anvil. The hilt had been designed for a medium or average-sized hand, not one so small as Jacob's. The Forgemaster shook his head slightly as he replied, "We need the steel because I need an exterior conduit and the steel shall work excellently for the outside part of what I want to add."

Jacob cocked a brow with a tone of confusion. "Uh... an exterior conduit?"

Vulkan smirked. "You'll see. But first, I'll need some copper tubing, a soldering torch, my metallurgy tweezers and my drill bits."

Jacob's brow remained up in confusion for a few seconds. Suddenly, the other eyebrow rose to meet it. "You're not..."

Vulkan smiled. "Now you're catching on."

Jacob set to retrieving the tools and materials asked, all the while Vulkan worked his magic, pointing out locations as he measured out the needed sizes on the blade and began fashioning the steel to the shapes he needed. The primary conduit rod, the nodule, the insertion ring, all of the necessary parts. But unlike most Imperial versions of this tiny piece, he and other Salamanders tended to make intricate carvings on this piece. Some saw it as pedantic, but to Salamanders it was further proof of their skill at the forge and as craftsmen. However, he left it blank for the moment. Meanwhile, the gold remained in its molten form, his crucibles designed to hold the heat for as long as possible while he began to mentally map out the outer frame of the chainsword.

His attention then turned to the pommel and its carbon fiber grip. "Has the handle been suitable for you, Jacob," he said over his hammering on the steel.

"Uh, a smidge uncomfortable," Jacob replied, an audible. "But I figured I'd get used to it."

"Never a good thing for a weapon to be uncomfortable in your grip," Vulkan replied. "Over by that cabinet on your left, there's some leather straps and anchoring studs in the top right cubby. Grab some of your preference and grab the hand dremel as well."

Jacob looked over. "Okay," he said hesitantly.

He was halfway through dipping the cooling steel in oil when the table next to the anvil rattled with materials being dropped on it. "That should be everything," Jacob said with a sigh of relief. "So... do you want to do the gold first or deal with the power upgrade?"

The Salamander smiled, putting aside the steel. "The gold will be simple enough. First, a little coloration for the metal. Tell me, what design do you like?"

Jacob looked down at the weapon. "Well," he said as he scratched his jaw, "I've always been partial to a blue on par with the main color of the Crimson Fists. Maybe a little lighter, like halfway to Ultramarine blue?"

Vulkan hummed and nodded, walking over to one of his other stations. Dust crystals and dyes stood aside one another, the crystals glowing faintly as they emanated their power.

Vulkan reached in for a yellow-tinged crystal of Lightning Dust and a pair of blue bottles of dye, quickly taking them over to the table beside the anvil. He was like the very lightning that emanated from the crystal, mixing the two bottles together at the right amounts before pouring the resulting dye over the steel and iron-lined casing of the blade. Without blinking, he grabbed the Lightning Dust in his hand and dragged it along the frame, the bolts of lightning cascading off the crystal and striking the ink. Wherever it passed, the dye suddenly began to stick and dry out, levelling out as if flattened by an invisible hand. After a solid minute, the dye was completely applied, the casing now in a candied, dark royal blue the color of a pre-sunrise morning sky.

"...How the hell did you do that," Jacob asked, his brow as high as it probably could go.

"The dyes are made of both standard organic pigments and metallic fragments," Vulkan replied. With an application of Lightning Dust, the frame and the pigment can be charged with a short burst of electricity to create a quick magnetic burst that evens and spreads the pigment across the surface. Then the heat of the lightning itself dries it out quickly."

Jacob looked at him with a look of bafflement. "I'm pretty sure that's not how electromagnets work," he said, "but whatever; frankly, it's awesome."

Vulkan smiled with a laugh. "Now for the gold. Any design you want?"

Jacob looked down. "Uhh... the standard vine pattern you sometimes see on some artwork—no, better, uhm... a Celtic knot? No, maybe a line of diamond shapes or... Huh. I don't actually know."

Vulkan's smile grew bigger. "Let's give each a try, shall we?" With that, he poured half of the molten gold from the crucible onto the blade as he activated his Aura. It wasn't much, enough for a layer a millimeter thick, but it was still pretty hot.

"Jesus H. Christ, Vulkan!"

Vulkan payed it no mind, reaching out with his Aura into the blade. His soul began to reach into the blade, letting it reach to him as well. "It is said that every weapon holds a piece of its wielder's soul, that it becomes a part of him that may live on should they perish before the weapon is destroyed. You have used it enough by now, that I imagine a part of you has latched onto the weapon."

Even while Jacob replied, Vulkan was not concentrating on that. Instead, he was reaching out with one hand, feeling the metal that now coursed over the surface of the sword and gun through his Aura. He concentrated closely, feeling the weapon.

He tensed his hand. He felt the gold stop flowing as his eyes were closed. He twitched his fingers.

"Holy shit," Jacob replied.

Vulkan smiled as he felt the gold's heat and flow, letting his fingers dance. He felt the gold move to his soul's whims. He opened one of his eyes and was met with a sight that made him smile.

The mass of gold was now gone, replaced with an elaborate design in the shape of diamonds along the frame, each one sculpted with the detail of a computer or a servitor's hand back home.

"You have... but that..." Jacob was struggling to get the words out. "You have Pyrrha's Semblance too?! Magnetism?"

Vulkan let out a great bellowing laugh. "Metallokinesis," he replied. "Different from polarity; hers only works to a minor degree and gives her the ability to bend metal forms she can touch. Mine is the manipulation of the metal's structure in and of itself and can weave it with detail. Think a hammer blow versus a scalpel's cut."

Jacob looked at him with a befuddled look. "That's still the same thing, Vulkan. You're just saying you have more control over it than she does."

Vulkan cocked a brow. "Perhaps. The difference is that she actively uses hers on a macrocosmic scale for battle; mine is more useful in preparation and tactical flexibility."

Jacob swung his hands into the air in exasperation. "Whatever. So, this was how you were planning to do this."

Vulkan nodded. "And the fragment of your soul that has latched onto the blade can say what it truly wants."

Jacob shrugged. "Well, what does it say?"

Vulkan nodded and reached back in. He felt for that essence, finding it quickly as it rested in the engine of the blade, where the most energy manifested.

Vulkan smiled at the answer it received. "How very human of you, Jacob."

Jacob grinned. "Well," he said with a shrug, "Whatever my soul wants is free game. So... Uhm, let's do it in that case." He then began to pace, as if there were a thought on his mind. Vulkan could see it in his eyes, a hesitant storm of confusion.

"Something else you wish to say," Vulkan asked.

"Huh? Oh," he replied, "it's nothing. I was... just thinking about the discussion about the Primarchs. There's one I forgot to mention... and for good reason."

Vulkan's brow furrowed as he counted them off. Vulkan, The Wolf King, the Great Khan, the Protector of Terra, The Lord of Ravens, the Iron King, The Blood Angel...

That's when it hit him. "What has happened to Roboute Guilliman," he asked with an unintended dangerous edge to his voice.

Jacob grimaced. "Okay, since the mission is coming up and I don't want him getting too focused on it... promise you won't tell Titus until I think it's good to tell him?"

Vulkan bit back a grimace of his own. As much as Jacob was a good man, Titus was his partner and teammate as a Huntsman; Vulkan would decide whether or not his friend needed to know something about his gene-father. "Promise," he lied.

Jacob took a deep breath. "Well... he isn't dead, for starters. But he's not in stasis anymore, thanks to some Craftworld fuckery and Mechanicus bullshit from Belisarius Cawl."

Vulkan didn't need to spell it out to put two and two together. He felt the blood rush from his face in shock. "You mean...?"

Jacob nodded.

Vulkan's fingers relaxed as his mind became occupied with this new revelation. "Tell me everything, Jacob."

* * *

"I will deploy... Atlesian Paladin and activate Mantlean Blizzard. Do you have any counter-efforts to use, Nora?"

A sigh. "Nope."

"Jaune?"

"Zilch."

"Lie?"

"Please, Penny, I prefer to go by my last name, Ren. And unfortunately, no."

Turquoise-blue eyes met emerald green eyes. "Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha looked back down at her hand, seeing if there was anything that she could use to counteract the oncoming modifier. _Let's see... Ironclad Warrior, Prophets of the Sons, Bombard Airfleet... shoot, I used my Mountain Pass earlier_. She shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Penny."

Penny beamed. "Then I shall roll for success. One d6, a four or higher to succeed."

Pyrrha nodded as she looked up around them. The library was practically abandoned by now, even though the midday sun beamed down gently onto the floor below for perfect reading light. The burgundy rugs and wood flooring were cast in various patterns and shades by the shadows and sunlight coming down through the skylights.

Penny picked up the lone die with a quick flourish and shook them, her eyes focused on her hands with the sharpness of an eagle's eyes.

"You're not scanning the die with your eyes so you can cheat a roll, are you," Nora said half-teasingly. "Right?"

"To perhaps a mild extent," she said. "I only scan based on the motions of the die against my hands and calculate out the probabilities of success based on the frequency and general algebraic probability equations. Once the die leaves my hand, though," she said as she let the die loose, the white and black piece tumbling across the board like a stone falling down a mountain.

It landed on the three.

"It is all up to random chance," she said, shrugging robotically.

Nora jumped up and cheered, only for Pyrrha to glance over at her and gently nudge her. "Sorry," the little redhead replied, sitting back down and rubbing the back of her head.

"A shame that failed," she said, "but that is how random chance plays out. Your turn, Pyrrha."

Pyrrha nodded and smiled. "I'll draw my card..." She looked down as she flipped the card upright. She was rewarded with the sight of an angry pack of peasants armed with pitchforks and torches.

Her smile softened a smidge, but she was still able to make this work. "I will activate Farmers' Riot," she said, laying the card down gently on the table as she pointed it towards Ren, "And engage Ren's invading army. I will also activate Prophets of the Sons and apply them to the Riot."

"Ooh," Jaune said with a smile. "Good one, Pyrrha."

"That's a really good combo," Ren replied, "But I don't think it's enough to stop my Desert Raiders."

"The Sons grant a plus-three to damage output," replied Penny, "And she is in her home territory, which conveys a plus-one to combat skill."

Pyrrha noticed Ren starting to nod. "And the Riot causes four d6 attacks with any rolls of a six adding an additional d6. I still don't think it will be enough, admittedly."

Pyrrha felt the challenge come from a mile away. "Let's see how it works out," she said, smiling. She grabbed the four dice and rattled them, smiling as the table took sides.

"Come on Ren," Nora said, zipping up onto her feet and running around to Ren's back, rubbing his shoulders. "You can take out a bunch of measly peasants! Do it for your Queen!"

"Come on, Pyrrha," Jaune said, leaning in and almost knocking his figures over.

"The numbers are even," Penny said. "I'm rooting for you, Pyrrha!"

Pyrrha beamed bemusedly. "Here we go," she said, letting them fly.

After a few seconds the die finished tumbling. Two sixes, a three and a two.

There was a collective gasp around the table. Pyrrha was laughing in delighted shock, covering her mouth. "Oh-hoh-oh my gods!"

"Wow," Ren replied with a low whistle. "Good roll."

Pyrrha picked another two up and rolled them. A five and a one stared back at her.

"Twenty-three hits," Penny rattled off. "I would call that an excellent roll, Pyrrha!"

Pyrrha beamed. "Alright, Ren. Now you roll for fails."

Ren nodded, grabbing four dice and rolling them. He rolled only twelve fails. He sighed resolutely. "And my Desert Raiders are removed from play. Well played."

Pyrrha nodded. "Don't count yourself out just yet, Ren," she replied. "You still have the upper hand on Jaune."

"I've got a strategy," Jaune countered defensively. "Sorta. Kinda. Okay, not much, but it's a start!"

Pyrrha chuckled at her partner. "Gods, I forgot how much I loved this game," she said through her laughter. "I'm glad we've gotten the chance to play it before the big mission."

"Actually, speaking of that," Penny said, "I wanted to ask you, since Jacob has let me in on RWBY's plan, how do you feel about this new development?"

The levity of the moment was swayed by the oncoming rush of seriousness. Pyrrha felt her laugh die off. "You mean my godfath—sorry, Professor Ultramar's?"

Penny nodded.

Jaune hummed. "That's maybe a bit too close to home for my taste," he replied. "I've got some family in Redhearth that I regularly visited as a kid, right in the outskirts of town." His face became downtrodden as he shuffled his cards. "I hope they're alright."

Pyrrha felt her heart sink. "I know what it's like to have a parent regularly in the line of danger," she said. "It's part of what inspired me to become a Huntress in the first place; I wanted to follow in his footsteps. Keep people safe."

Jaune nodded, soon followed by the rest of her team. Penny seemed to develop just the slightest hint of what seemed to Pyrrha to be a look of forlornness.

"Reminds me of Ruby," Jaune said. "A lot more noble a purpose than mine; I'm the guy wanting to prove himself to be as good as the rest of his family."

Pyrrha felt sick when he started beating himself up about his purpose. "Jaune," she said, "there's nothing wrong with that kind of purpose. You deserve the chance to be as great as your forbearers." She put a hand on his shoulder, little more than a gentle caress, but it was enough to get her intent across.

He sighed in response. "I guess," he replied. "But it's still nothing like yours, Pyrrha."

Across the way, Nora was cocking a brow and smiling at both of them. Pyrrha could read the thoughts in her mind without even needing to be a telepath: _just kiss already, you two._

Apparently, Jaune knew what she was thinking too. "Nora," he said as he blushed. "Don't go there."

"What," she said, "you two would make a cute couple."

Now it was Pyrrha's turn to blush. "Uhh... w-well, I suppose—"

"Perhaps we should consider what we are to do for the big mission," Ren said, interjecting quickly. Pyrrha had to remember to thank him for that save.

"Agreed," Penny said as she tapped the side of her head. Her eyes began to glow brightly, as if her eyes had been ignited with an internal fire. She was quiet, eyes focused as if she were staring at a single speck in front of her. "A mission has been added to the roster already," she replied. "Requires two teams... southeast region of Vale Territory, possible entrance into Mountain Glenn..."

Pyrrha rose a brow. This was too good to be true.

Penny's brow furrowed. "Drat. Not available for first-years," She said. "Perhaps we might be able to convince Professor Ozpin to lift that."

"What about you, Penny," Jaune asked. "Since you're...well, you know?"

Penny began to tap her cheek in thought. "I don't have a proper partner yet, and the General has been adamant about me avoiding revealing myself to the general public until the Tournament. I suppose I will not be part of these missions."

"Aww," Nora said dejectedly. "I was looking forwards to us having some fun kicking Grimm teeth in together!"

Penny nodded. "Perhaps another time, Nora. I would love to show you some ideas I have for your grenade combinations." She turned to Pyrrha, smiling. "Regardless, I believe that this mission was set up in this manner for a reason."

Pyrrha nodded. "You were thinking the same thing too: the professors want us on that mission."

Penny returned the nod. "RWBY's continuous confrontations with the White Fang are not a state secret," she replied. "And neither is Jacob's either. General Ironwood even said that where they and you go, he follows eagerly."

"They think we can root out the White Fang," Pyrrha deduced. "They want us as scouts?"

Jaune was starting to look nervous. "But... we're first-years," he replied, bringing his hands onto the table as he leaned forwards. "They've got to have better candidates for this mission. Team CFVY is twice our skill level, or there's the Senior teams. Why us?"

His anxiety was palpable. She reached out a hand for his hand now resting on the table. He didn't look directly at her, but he did seem to tense and then immediately relax at her touch. She didn't deny the butterflies that fluttered for a brief second in her stomach. "I don't really think there's a necessary 'why', Jaune," she replied. "It seems to be... random luck, I suppose."

Nora was grinning ear-to-ear, practically leaping out of and into a standing pose on her feet. "Well, I think the danger will just make our success even better! Think about it; we go in, hunt some Grimm, find the White Fang, report back to the professors and let them and Atlas' army take them out! We'll be heroes!"

Ren began to raise a finger in reply, only to stop his sentence cold-turkey in his throat. He shook his head and let the finger drop, only saying, "Heroes by-proxy, Nora."

" _Pfft_ , whatever. Still heroes," she said as she jumped back into her seat with a solid-sounding _plop_.

Penny smiled. "Knowing the combat efficiency of Ruby's team and yours as well, I predict there is only a four percent chance of failure when comparing recorded actions by the White Fang," she replied. "And with Professor Ultramar, Ms. Ultramar and Professor Oobleck, that probability drops by an additional three-point-four-two percent."

"Numbers and calculations don't mean everything, Penny," Jaune replied. "I just hope that I'm wrong this time."

Pyrrha nodded, her heart torn in this matter; this was her first mission, and to take on such a huge task was an honor, if it even was supposed to be theirs. But so far from the city, away from most other Huntsmen, as well as any support from Atlas soldiers, she didn't deny that the risks were huge should things get out of hand.

"True," Penny replied. "It is indeed a gamble. But... that being said, when has anything not been a gamble? Was your unqualified entry into Beacon not a gamble, Jaune?"

Pyrrha and Jaune, almost synchronously, immediately jumped up and tried shushing her, waving their hands in distress. "Not so loud, Penny," Pyrrha whispered.

"Oops," Penny said, covering her mouth with a wide-eyed look on her face. "I'm sorry, friends."

"No, no," Jaune said, shrugging in agreement, "You're... you're not entirely wrong."

The android girl beamed. "You see what I mean, yes?"

"Well, yeah, I guess. But—"

"And you know as well as I do that Ruby and her team will be taking the fight there with or without Headmaster Ozpin's permission," she added. "Heck, I doubt that any of the professors will outright oppose them going on this mission; why else would Mr. and Mrs. Ultramar—two senior Huntsmen with personal ties to Pyrrha—be also accompanying Professor Oobleck on this mission."

"That part I consider highly coincidental," Ren piped up. "I do see your point, however; it would be incredibly coincidental if this wasn't outright planned."

"So," Nora said exictedly, as if she had swiped a cup of coffee from Oobleck's thermos, "does that mean we're going with RWBY on the big mission?"

Pyrrha and Jaune shared a look. Normally, Jaune tended to let her take te lead on a decision, and it made her worry that he would never come into his own as their team leader. Before he could say anything, she said, "Perhaps this should be our team leader's decision. Wht do you think, Jaune?"

Jaune made a confused 'uhh' in response as he looked around at the rest of the table. Penny was giving him a beaming smile, With Nora doing the same right next to her; Pyrrha was now starting to wonder if Penny had been designed off of Nora by some strange twist of fate. Ren gave Jaune a quizzical eyebrow, simply awaiting his decision. Pyrrha herself made no face to sway him in either direction, wanting to see what he finally decided on. His eyes were squinted in thought, his brow furrowed as he rattled the ideas around his head. Ten seconds ticked by on the clock over the Grimm Studies shelves behind Penny. Then another ten. And then another.

Jaune sighed, dropping his head before he looked back up. Pyrrha felt her heart beat just a little faster as he locked eyes with her, brilliant sapphires practically glowing with the hints of determination, tempered by wariness. "Let's do it."

Nora cheered loudly with Penny. Both were quickly shushed by a student across the way, an act that made them sheepishly sit back down. "Excellent," Penny said quietly. "I'll let Ruby and Jacob know when I next see them. In the meantime, arm up with as much Dust as you can and be ready for a difficult mission." She stood up, acting as if stretching even though she made no difference to her voice as she stretched like most people did. "I'm glad Ruby has such good friends as you; it would be a lot to be her only friend."

Pyrrha giggled. "As far as I am concerned, you're one of our merry band of misfits, right guys?"

Nora sprung up onto her feet. "Oh yeah! Welcome to the Crew," she said as she wrapped an arm around Penny, beaming brightly.

Suddenly, the dynamic swapped as Penny turned and scooped Nora up in a tight hug that left Nora shouting in surprise. "Hooray! New friends!"

The next strangled words out of Nora's mouth were terrifying to Pyrrha. "Oh my gods, you have a stronger grip than I do!"

Jaune, Ren and Pyrrha shared a look of shock mixed with worry. Jaune spoke up. "Someone... has a _stronger grip_ than... _Nora?"_

"I might need to find some proper armor before I go in for a hug with Penny," Ren replied.

Penny giggled as she hugged Nora for a few more seconds before she abruptly unbound the girl, dropping her as Nora let out a cry of surprise. "This will be fantastic to send to my father when I go up to the CCT tomorrow. I just know he will love seeing my socialization progress!"

"Your father? You mean your inventor," asked Ren.

Penny nodded. "He always enjoys hearing about my socialization input than any combat simulations I attempt. I usually have to encrypt my memory files to send to him directly, so it will take some time; I should probably head over there now to check and see when I am clear to upload."

Pyrrha nodded and smiled. Penny's exuberance was so innocent and lively that it was practically contagious. She couldn't lie, it was almost like...

" _Celly, wait for me!"_

" _Come on, Pyrrha, we're gonna miss Delia's party... Huh?"_

" _What was that?"_

" _It sounded like... growling?"_

Pyrrha shook her head as the memories began to grow a darker shade. She wasn't in the mood to be reminded of past mistakes and much older friends.

They had a mission to plan for.

* * *

 **Huzzah, now we get to the good stuff next chapter! Sorry for the meandering that this story's going through at the moment; I've been trying to get some proper character interactions and not every one of them can be a battle, sadly (though it never hurts when the interactions are a fight, though.) This next chapter is gonna skip that final day, albeit for the last few hours before the characters go to sleep and then wake up for the mission and then go from there.**

 **Basically, next episode: Jacob and Delia have a quick heart-to-heart before The Breach, Teams RWBY, JNPR and Jacob go off on a hunt for the White Fang and get a mouthful of Chaos with it, and... A servant of the Blood God makes his appearance.**

 **Review, critique, follow, favorite, comment, whatever you please, I always appreciate what you guys have to say and I do hope to see some that point out any glaring transgressions for storytelling that I've made; I always want to be improving and your input is so helpful for refining myself. Anyways, hope to hear from you all, and if the next chapter doesn't get out before the holidays proper, I hope you all have a Merry Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa and/or Winter Solstice, and as always I will see you all in the next Chapter. Bye~!**


	31. Mountain Glenn

**First Chapter of the new year, and... boy oh boy, was last week's episode an emotional roller coaster.**

 **What does it say if it both hurts and feels better now that they've at least once addressed Pyrrha for the rest of the group? It really does both sting and relieve. *Sniffles***

 **But enough about that, let's start the chapter.**

* * *

 **Chapter 31: Mountain Glenn**

* * *

" _The board is set... the pieces are moving." —Gandalf the White, The Lord of the Rings_

* * *

The evening twilight had long since settled in across the city of Vale, casting the world in violets and blues of many shades between the twinkling lights of the winking street lamps and unwinding homes. Across the city, normal people returned from long days at the store or the office or wherever they claimed to be their workplace, some travelling home to meet with family and settle in for another night of peaceful existence under Remnant's navy-blue night sky; others still were commuting to other parts of the city, looking to liven their night up with friends or even potential partners in the energetic haze of the Vytal Festival's growing celebrations across the city, whether night clubs or fairs. The city, even as the sun sank farther and farther down into the inky darkness of night, glimmered like a yellow-white jewel in a dark blue sea. Raucous laughter, sorrowful crying, screams of delight, cars honking, generators thrumming, animals calling and a thousand other sounds echoed into the night, melding together in the cooling air. This was the heartbeat of a city; the heartbeat of a civilization straining with the desire to expand and prosper under the ever-present threat of a foe older than Humanity itself.

Jacob grimaced as he looked over it from beneath the towering shadow of Beacon Academy. "Eighteen hours, give or take," he said quietly. _Eighteen hours and that heartbeat will be enveloped in fear, roaring and the sounds of gunfire._ He hugged his arms closer to his torso in discomfort, his mind conjuring images of civilians running from ravenous packs of Beowolves or falling beneath the scything claws of an Ursa. His fingers drummed anxiously on his arm as he found himself pacing again, the grass of Beacon's gardens tickling his heels as he made each stride. He was under the shade of the same tree that he had taken shelter under all those weeks—wasn't it now coming up on two months—ago, hating himself for the slaughter of a boy on the wrong side of the law. The elm tree was now beginning to turn brighter colors, the first hints of fall creeping in on the world. A leaf broke loose, the lime-green waif flowing in the gentle breeze that sauntered in from the sea.

"Try not to think about it," came the voice of Mira at his side. "That's the part that all Guardsmen struggle with the most during an offensive maneuver. Focus on the current moment."

Jacob turned to meet the Guardswoman eye-to-eye, tilting his head down to meet her gaze while she sat at the base of the tree. "I think this might be a smidge different, Ms. Ultramar: It's not like we don't know what's coming."

"True," she said, "considering the footage you provided us. But there's still many other variables to consider."

Jacob nodded. "Eliphas..."

"And other possible agents."

His grimace deepened. "Who do you think is with him, if anyone?"

There was a deep hum of thought. "I doubt there will be anyone outside of Eliphas," replied Titus assuredly. "If there are, I have my doubts that they are a Chaos worshipper of particular note."

"I would say 'never say never', Titus," Jacob said, "but you're also not wrong. But that's the least of my concerns."

"Understandable," Titus replied as he walked up beside him, the Ultramarine still towering over the guy despite no longer being an Astartes. "Vulkan, Gabriel and Logan have mapped out necessary routes out of the identified regions of the city. They're preparing to be within close range of the Breach if and then when it opens up, and they're bringing out all of their best weapons and gear."

Jacob nodded. "Good, good," he said absently. "And the Valkyrie?"

"Ready to buzz the ground when the time comes," Mira said. "Agatha's piloting skills as a Steel Legionnaire is second to none. She's ready to appease the Machine's Spirit's bloodthirst."

Jacob nodded again. "Anyone else we should expect to arrive?"

Titus returned the nod and replied, "Yes. Former Apothecary Pythol of the Red Scorpions arrived at the school's landing bay an hour ago, and Vulkan's bringing him up to speed. I finally received word from Stormseer Sugodai of the White Scars, he is en route from his base on the southern trade trails; he'll be here tomorrow morning."

"And... any word from Dante?"

Titus' eyes flashed with some manner of emotion that Jacob couldn't read. "Dante and his wife are on route, but their airship from Mistral has been delayed for a day. They won't get here until the morning of The Breach."

Jacob grimaced. "At least he'll be here—wait, _wife?_ He got married?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Titus replied.

Jacob's grimace turned into a sly grin. "Who's the lucky Imperial woman who's rolling under the covers with the Lord Commander of the Blood Angels?"

Mira grinned back. "Not Imperial. Remnantine."

Jacob's grin disappeared in surprise. "Wait, he hooked up with a local woman? No kidding?"

The husband and wife nodded their heads in unison. "Before you ask," Mira added, "Pandora is well aware of the truth. He confessed it to her directly before they married."

Jacob shrugged in understanding. "Fair enough, she ought to have known what she was getting before she made a commitment."

Titus nodded. "She's also a Huntsman by trade, but she's been spending a lot of time as a stay-at-home mother the last few years. She just started taking missions after their daughter started attending the Academies."

Jacob gave him a look of surprise. "Really? Is she here with the rest of the Haven students?"

Titus and Mira shared a look that Jacob registered as faintly suspect. "She's here," the Ultramarine said. "You'll know her when you see her."

Jacob nodded, his mind trying to go through the myriad of faces he had seen from Haven; Dante's—or rather Sanguinius'—genes must be far stronger right? Must have blood red eyes, flowing, golden blonde hair, nearly marble skin, goddamn gorgeous to look at... why hadn't he seen her before?

"Well, well," came another feminine voice, "What's with all the old guard sitting out here? Scheming in the shadows?"

Jacob turned and was met with the sight of a girl in a bright yellow and red-striped sweatshirt and black jeans walking their way, her short, platinum-blonde hair still in its usual bob cut. "Talking about tomorrow," Jacob replied to Delia—or Rey, he remembered that she preferred—as she walked up to him. He offered her a handshake that she returned in earnest. "How's your old man doing?"

"Readying up and watching the footage you gave us pretty damn meticulously," the granddaughter of Rogal Dorn commented; Jacob at random only now noticed that her voice was like Emma Watson's, but with an American Midwest accent. "He was powering up the Fist just before I left so it's got that extra kick. Also, never call him 'old man' to his face, or he'll remove it."

Jacob pointed to her and replied, "point taken. Side note, is that the real Fist of Dorn he uses?"

"It is," Mira replied. "That relic now resides here with him, alongside the remains of his Terminator suit."

Jacob's eyes bugged out as he turned his head to lock eyes with the Cadian. "Okay, I know Titus said his armor came through with him, but you didn't say anything about a suit of Terminator armor being here."

Rey scoffed. "What did you think that suit of proto-Cataphractii armor Vulkan has was made from?!"

"He told me it was made with Remnant parts!"

"And the schematics of Indomitus plates!"

"How the hell does that work!?"

"Both of you," Mira said, "calm down. Is this really worth arguing over?"

The two blinked in surprise, realizing that she wasn't far off. Jacob shook his head "Did we seriously just argue about how a suit of Terminator armor was made?"

"Jeez, when you say it like that," she said, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Anyway, not important," Jacob replied with a dismissive wave off into the city. "The important thing here is being ready for tomorrow. Penny's already two steps ahead of the game, fortunately for us. She's prepped up with Knight parade routes and in regards to her own situation, she's gotten some hard copy memory drives for her to use if things go south."

"Good," Titus replied. "One less thing to worry about.

"Right," Jacob nodded. "But here's the thing that's got me worried: it's not just team RWBY going out to Mountain Glenn with Oobleck; our party's size is a force double that original size, and backed by some of the best fighters—and one of the worst—in Remnant and the Imperium," he said, pointing to himself at that the mention of 'the worst'. "But opposite of that, the galvanized White Fang, Roman Torchwick and his cohorts, Neopolitan and Eliphas the Inheritor are waiting there with a metric fuck-ton of Grimm out there with them. This is gonna be the first shots fired in what basically will amount to a war."

Silence draped itself across the assembly, everyone letting the situation absorb into their minds. Jacob sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "The people who are caught in the attack zone are going to be in more than just danger... there is more than a good chance of casualties, I won't pretend otherwise. But with everything we know, we can either stop it outright or should that fail keep the damages to a minimum. This will make or break the future and what we might expect from Cinder and Salem: If the Breach goes through, the Council puts Ironwood in charge of security and Atlas gets to flex its military muscles. If we succeed, Ozpin may remain cleared to assume command and Atlas either stands down or reduces its forces in the city. Considering the notion that Cinder is still planning the attack on Vale, we, unfortunately, might have to let the Breach occur and basically stretch ourselves as much as possible to perform damage control."

He grimaced as he met each Imperial's gaze; Mira kept her gaze for all of three seconds before she sighed, rubbing her shoulder in very evident hesitation. Titus' eyes were a storm of emotions, each one small but forming the weakest of thunderclouds within his light blue eyes—hadn't his eyes always been dark brown, or was Jacob imagining things—as he grimaced back. Rey's emotions were the most open, a sour scowl on her face at the idea of letting the enemy into the city.

"Don't think for a moment I like having to say, 'We're going to let the Grimm breach the city'," he said with a sigh. "Fuck it, I'm basically saying that some people will have to die in a day and a half so we can set this whole thing on a path of forward momentum. I sound no better than your average Inquisitor or Arbitrator, honestly. But still... I don't think it's wise to deviate from canon until the moment that Pyrrha goes downstairs to accept Amber's power. After that, it's free game to cut Cinder off at the knees."

Rey spat angrily. "We should be arresting her on the spot," the platinum blonde said. "My cousin is in danger, the city is in danger, and yet we're standing here doing nothing, waiting for them to come and slaughter people like lambs in a butchery!"

"I swear I'm a broken record at this point," Jacob said aloud to himself "If we deviate too far, we risk—"

"What," she said, "your precious intel becoming null and void? The one-in-a-million chance of everyone else dying instead of _possibly_ _just_ Pyrrha and the android girl? Give me a break, we could take her with an arm each tied behind our backs. I've seen her in combat; she's nothing special."

"That's because you haven't seen her go full-Maiden yet," Jacob replied sharply through his teeth. "I _have_. And let me tell you right now, if her fight with Pyrrha in the show is any indicator, she could wax half of us and not break a sweat."

Rey glowered. "She is half the Fall Maiden that Amber was—is! I meant is!"

"And yet Amber still got batted around like a ball of string," Jacob replied. "All because Cinder was two steps ahead of her and found her weakness!"

"Cinder got lucky!"

"Amber got careless! And because of that carelessness, a lot of people are now on the chopping block!"

"Amber was _not_ careless! Not that you would know that," the Lone Wolf replied back to her contemporary. "You've been lying through your teeth about knowing Amber, and that's how you got into this fucking school in the first place!"

"Delia," Mira barked with the tone a mother gives her child, "this is not the time or place for this kind of discussion!"

The Lysander girl didn't hear her, or at least ignored her. "If anything, I still doubt your allegiances: What would you have to gain from doing all of this tip-toeing around rather than come out and say it to everyone!?"

"Because I can't say what would happen if I did," Jacob roared back at her, "haven't you been listening!? If I had said something, they may have jumped the gun in an attempt to catch her and others would have been caught in the crossfire! Because by comparison to that dinky light show that Amber showed off when she was attacked, Cinder is leagues past her and would have killed—"

 _ **CRACK!**_

He reeled back a few steps as the right side of his face erupted with pain. The sound of bone impacting bone rang in his ears as he involuntarily cupped the assaulted cheek. He looked up to see Rey's fist raised high and her stride picking up, only for Mira to dart into view, grabbing Rey by the arm to hold her back.

"How dare you talk about my blood-cousin like that," the blonde girl roared. "How dare you speak of a granddaughter of Rogal Dorn like that! She is twice-fold the Huntsman you will ever be and you have the gall to say she was weak!?"

"Delia, that's enough," Titus shouted as he joined his wife in holding the fisticuff-wielding Huntress back, "He didn't mean it like that."

Delia struggled against the Cadian and Ultramarine's grips, control still visible in her eyes even in the dim light and poor animation of Volume 2. "I think I was wrong about you, Muller; you're a coward, a snake. It's plain just in your very plans. You don't care about the rest of the city. You only care about what lies within your narrow view." With a huff, she shook Mira's arm loose and turned, beating an angry and hasty retreat back into the Academy.

Jacob sat there, dumbfounded. Considering how much she cared for Pyrrha the first night that he had told them of the truth, he was expecting her to be of the same mind. And yet, that wasn't the biggest thing on his mind. No, it was her other comment—about Amber—that got his attention.

Mira was first to approach him, a look mingled in ire, disappointment and compassion in her eyes. "Are you alright,"

Titus sighed as he watched the junior Imperial Fist walk away. "Forgive her outbursts," he said quietly. "She's stubborn like her father, and as ferocious as her cousins in the Black Templars. But your comments were also uncalled for."

"Well, she is right on both accounts," Jacob said as he massaged his injured cheek. "I won't pretend otherwise."

"If she was right on the latter," the Ultramarine said, "then you wouldn't have told us the plan in the first place; now we can at least control the situation a bit."

"And yet I just openly said that I wanted the Invasion of Vale to go down," the boy replied. "Not exactly Huntsman of the Year material there, Captain."

"Perhaps," he replied with a tired sigh. "That being said, it is a very Imperial decision to make."

Jacob grimaced. "I take it that's a bad thing."

Titus hummed in thought. "I'd say it's... a very human decision, honestly. Now then, considering it is closing in on 7:00, I believe we should turn in for the night; we have a busy day ahead of us."

"Right. So, quick question," Jacob said as he stopped massaging the angry, faint welt on his cheekbone where her fist struck his face. "What did she mean by 'her blood-cousin'?"

Titus and Mira shared a look of hesitation, sighing quietly as they turned back to him. It was Mira who answered him. "Knowing that you don't actually know Amber that much, it's not surprising that you don't know her lineage. Tell me," she said to him, "Does the animated show ever tell her surname?"

Jacob shook his head. Why was that important—unless...

"Does the surname Mendoza ring any bells?"

Again, Jacob shook his head. "I mean, it's a common surname for Latino folk back home, but I can't think of anyone in 40k with a... Latino... name."

As he said that, his mind had begun to remember something. Something involving one of the myriad sons of Dorn that existed in the Imperium. There _was_ a chapter whose members sported the surnames of both Latin and Castillan Spanish. The very first Space Marine Chapter to be put to artwork, they were the chapter whose men adorned the cover of the very first rulebook for 40k, _Rogue Trader_.

A crimson fist on a dark blue background flashed in his mind. His stomach began to flip like a coin toss, his brain processing their meaning.

"...You're joking with me."

* * *

"I'm not joking guys, guess who showed up in the mail~!"

" _Arf, arf-arf!"_

"Oh, my gods, who is this cute pup!?"

"Something that should _not_ be at this school."

"Oh, come on, Blake, he's not mean, he's just a cute little puppy-wuppy, aren't you? Yes, you are, yes you are!"

"I... never imagined Weiss baby-talking something," Nora said as she stifled a giggle.

"Hush, you," Weiss retorted with an angry point at the tiny Valkyrie.

The salt-and-pepper corgi barked again, his stubby tail wagging circles as he stared up at the Mistrali champion. He did a pirouette for her, once, twice, then sat back down in front of her, panting and still wagging his tail joyfully. Pyrrha moved to pick up the adorable little dog, holding him up as one would hold a baby with his belly up and his little paws waving in the air.

"Aww," Pyrrha cooed to the puppy, "aren't you just so sweet? What's his name?"

Yang beamed in delight. "Zwei," she replied.

Yang giggled as she watched her dog and her friend play, the former now lolling his tongue out the side of his mouth in absolute delight as the latter rubbed his tummy with her free hand. The two teams were now standing inside of RWBY's room, the door closed behind them as if they were in the middle of some clandestine meeting. Outside, the morning sun was already fairly high in the sky, casting the Academy in dimmed patches of light and shadow through the light cloud cover. First-year missions would be called up shortly, no doubt about it.

Out of the corner of her vision, she saw Ren pick up one of Zwei's dog food cans as well as the package that they had come in; even she didn't know how her dad was able to do things like that with packages, but she was always delightfully surprised by it, so she never really cared much about it. As for the rest of JNPR, they had suddenly encircled Pyrrha and Zwei, with Jaune cuddled up right beside Pyrrha and Nora right across from them, with Weiss sandwiched right beside Jaune. The salt-and-pepper corgi was now barking happily and waving his paws, his little tongue hoping to give anyone in range doggy kisses.

Yang watched on as Jaune and Pyrrha in particular kept giving the Xiao Long-Rose household's dog all the love he could have imagined. She watched the two play off one another, Jaune scratching Zwei's chin only for Pyrrha to rub his belly, the pup squirming as he was doted upon. Somewhere in the back of Yang's mind, watching the two of them act like this together... well, she wasn't going to pretend that they weren't a cute pair. Yeah, Pyrrha was showing all of the classical signs of a puppy crush, but Jaune was either not interested— _how the hell isn't he interested, unless he was in the closet or something—_ or was oblivious to it. Judging by how often his eyes were darting over to Weiss, it had to be the latter.

She groaned internally. _Get a clue, Jaune, you idiot._

"So," Ruby said from her spot in front of the door, "we have the plan all set up?"

Jaune and Pyrrha looked up. "Considering everything's being handed to us on a silver platter," Pyrrha said, "I don't think there's much to really go over."

"Fair enough," Weiss replied. "Granted, we still need to actually _get_ the mission in the first place. Then we should worry about all the other details."

"Although," Blake said from atop of Ruby's makeshift bunkbed, "What are we gonna do about... _him."_ She pointed down at the corgi lounging in Pyrrha's arms.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Five taps in rapid succession. _"Shave and a haircut,"_ a voice from the other side, just loud enough to be heard.

Yang nodded to Ruby. Her little sister turned and opened the door, revealing a fully-packed Jacob on the other side. His backpack was fully-loaded, his chainsword hanging loosely at his side and his pistol sticking out of the inside pocket of his jacket. But the most noticeable things about him were the faint bags under his eyes and the untouched, two-day-old stubble he was wearing now. He didn't look as fresh as expected, but he still looked fairly invigorated.

"Morning guys," he said with a small smile. "I take it I'm the late asshole who's out of the loop?"

Yang sighed. "Well," she said, "there's not much to add, really. You got everything you need?"

He nodded as he entered the room. "Actually, come to think of it," he said with a sigh as the smile faltered, "I might be packing this all for naught, if the parameters of that mission are any indicator. We're probably gonna need to be on the move regularly, so at best I probably only need my music and a basic sleeping bag, not counting weapons and ammo."

Yang smirked, thinking just how much he was like Weiss in some instances: Yang had to tell the heiress to not go overboard on packing. "Hey," she said, "at least you tried to be proactive."

"And yet you chastised me for it," replied Weiss.

"Oh, shush," Yang replied absently.

Jacob nodded as he set his backpack down at the foot of her bed. "And who... brought in a dog? I thought pets aren't allowed on campus." He walked up to Pyrrha and Jaune, the duo still playing with the pup as he approached.

"Oh," Yang heard Ruby say before she zoomed in beside their eldest member, "This is Zwei! He's _our_ dog!"

"Oh, really now," he said as he flashed her a bemused grin. He reached out a hand to Zwei, hesitating as the happy-go-lucky corgi turned his head and began to sniff Jacob's hand. His tail stopped wagging, though mainly in concentration by all accounts. Yang found her brow rising in surprise as he sniffed for a few seconds... and then another few seconds. She was immediately confused: Zwei never took much longer than at most two seconds to smell someone out before he let them pet him.

What was different about Jacob?

The sniffing stopped. Zwei's ears poked up. He barked twice.

Yang sighed in relief. Two barks; Zwei liked him, as emphasized by him licking Jacob's fingers.

"Aww," said Jacob, sounding like he was going to start cooing in baby-talk, "Who's a good boy? Who's a happy corgi?"

Yang smiled and laughed as Zwei barked happily, his chin now getting a scratch from Jacob. "Nice to see Zwei's still a good judge of character," she said to Jacob, walking up and ruffling his beaver-pelt hair.

"I take it he doesn't like people of poor conduct," Jacob replied.

Yang scoffed, remembering a myriad of times Zwei had scared off a person who was of ill refute. "You have no idea," she said, coming in beside him and petting Zwei's chin the same as he was.

She heard a small laugh at her side. She turned to see Nora eyeing her with a cocky grin, raising her eyebrows and glancing off to her left... in the direction of Jacob.

Yang felt her eyes shift to red in response, though she only scowled slightly in reply. "Don't go there," she mouthed silently to Nora. Nora responded by making kissy faces with a sly grin attached to the end.

If Yang didn't enjoy their spars and eating competitions, she would have smacked Nora over the head with a thrown gauntlet from Ember Celica.

"I've talked with Titus and Mira," Jacob said with tone addressed to everyone. "The search and destroy mission is pretty much ours in all but name, though Ozpin will need to remove the restrictions on it after we arrive."

"Odd that Professor Ozpin would go through such lengths to _send_ us on this mission," Blake said from her perch on Ruby's bed. Yang was glad to see the bags under her eyes had faded dramatically, and her amber eyes had also become far brighter and livelier.

"I think he's tired of us breaking rules to take the initiative," Jaune muttered exasperantly.

"Not surprising considering it's always us that are in the thick of the firefight," Yang replied back to him.

"Not to mention some of us have history with the Fang," Jacob commented, pointing to himself. Blake immediately cleared her throat, making him wince in revelation.

"So, Uncle Titus and Aunt Mira are on this mission too," Pyrrha said as an aside. "I have to wonder who was the original professor assigned to this mission?"

"Oobleck," Jacob said matter-of-factly. "And he's still on the mission, too."

Yang wasn't alone when her jaw dropped without her permission. Half of the room dropped theirs in respective shock, with the likes of Ruby and Nora both wearing eyes as wide as saucepans.

"Oobleck!? Why's he on a field mission," cried Nora in bafflement.

"Well, he _is_ a licensed Huntsman," Blake replied, only to shrink back at Zwei's happy barking.

Jacob hummed in thought. "As much as I agree with Nora in regards to the idea that he doesn't seem the fieldwork type, He's still a part of the mission, and he's probably aware of our intentions if Ozpin's smart enough to let him know. But it might be smart to assume that his goals out there and our own will match up."

Yang grimaced at that: All this time planning out things in secret and now they were just going with it? "He's never going to let us hunt the White Fang outright," she said with a frown.

Jacob turned and looked at her with his own furrowed brow. "I'm not advocating we blurt out our intentions, but we at least prepare ourselves to move tactfully. And considering the map of Fang and Eightfold Path activity that Titus indicated seeing with Ironwood, there's bound to be someone out there who slips up and leaves a trail for us. Then we can track them down and go from there."

Most of the room nodded in agreement; it was a solid but flexible baseline plan. But something nagged at the back of Yang's mind. Something felt a little too... _rehearsed_ about what he was saying. It was almost like he was expecting to catch someone. But before those thoughts could catch too solid a hold, she banished the thought from her mind with a shake of her head.

Jacob rose a brow at that. "You okay, Yang?"

Yang blinked. "Ah, it's nothing," she replied. "But yeah, guess it sounds like a solid plan to me."

"Right," Ruby said with a smile from the doorway. "Now we just need them to—"

" _Will all first-year students please report to the amphitheater,"_ came the voice of Professor Goodwitch over the ceiling-mounted speaker.

"—call... us..."

Yang suppressed a giggle. "Couldn't have timed that better, Ruby."

Jacob, however, chuckled openly, though as Yang turned her head and met his eyes with her own. She was surprised to see both ferocity and apprehension in his eyes, as if he was aware of something and both excited and concerned to meet it in battle. Yang didn't deny that it was a smidge unnerving in the back of her mind.

"Well, you heard the lady, let's move out," he said as he scratched Zwei's chin one last time before making for the door. Nora and Ren were right behind him, with Weiss following suit, then Jaune and then Blake, whom was doing her best attempt at a circus acrobat's retinue to avoid Zwei. Now, there was only Yang, Pyrrha and Ruby in the room.

"Well," Pyrrha said as she scratched Zwei's chin, "he's certainly excited for the mission, even if it isn't... well, 'smiley excited."

Ruby nodded, a look that was halfway between the normal happy smile she wore and... a look of worried thoughtfulness. "I mean, it is our first mission, but... he's been kinda jumpy about the Eightfold Path and the White Fang..."

Yang nodded back in agreement. "We'll keep an eye on him, okay? I'm sure he'll be fine, though; he's been taking things a lot better than before, recently."

"I noticed that yesterday," Pyrrha said as she put Zwei down, letting him run around their feet in a loop. "But... he's been anxious about this, and more than I would expect."

Yang grimaced at her note. She wasn't wrong on any account, and now the worry and doubt had begun to edge in on her mind; was this going as good-natured as most first missions were, or...

She shook her head. "Ah, we'll worry about it when we're on the ground. For now, let's just get to the meeting and get the mission. Come on, Ruby."

Yang noticed that even as she and Pyrrha began to walk out of the room, Ruby hesitated for a second. "Wait," she said, "what about Zwei?"

Yang looked back at her with a wry smile. "He'll be fine," she said. "He's got a can opener, a good bed—four of them technically—to sleep on, and he can run outside and do his business." Sure, even that first part didn't make sense since he was a dog, but he'd been able to do it before by some miracle, so she wasn't worried. With that, she turned and began walking down the hall after the rest of them.

Right at the end of the hall, she turned to see if Ruby was following her. She was surprised to see Ruby jogging after them, a big Beacon Academy backpack on her back. "Sorry," she said. "Had to grab some stuff I thought we'd need."

Yang smiled. "There's my smart sis," she said as she ruffled Ruby's hair. She turned and followed the rest of them down the stairwell, Ruby on her six.

About five minutes later they had arrived in the auditorium, and judging by how crowded it was they were among the last to arrive. Students in Atlas and Haven Academy uniforms stood at various states of attention, while the uniform-less students of Shade stood at relative ease. Out of the Beacon students, only their group of 9 stood in their casual wear rather than their dress uniforms.

Yang scoffed audibly at the stiff and almost regimental Atlas Academy students. _Sucks to be them,_ she thought to herself. Team RWBY and Team JNPR stood shoulder-to-shoulder, with Jacob taking the far opposite side of the group from Yang and Ruby, standing beside Nora and Jaune. He seemed at attention the same way as the Atlesian students.

Yang furrowed her brow in curiosity. Then her ears were assaulted.

There was a very loud feedback from the mic up on the central stage. There, Ozpin and Professor Goodwitch stood at attention, looking out over the student body. "Quiet," Goodwitch called out, "Quiet please. Professor Ozpin would like to share a few words before we begin."

Ozpin stepped forwards, adjusting his collar. "Today we stand together, united. Mistral. Atlas. Vacuo. Vale. The four Kingdoms of Remnant. On this day, nearly eighty years ago, the largest war in recorded history came to an end. It was a war of ignorance, of greed, and of oppression. A war that was about much more than where borders fell or who traded with whom, but about the very idea of individualism itself."

Yang shifted on her feet. She'd heard a similar speech before, but it never seemed to get old to her.

"We fought for countless reasons, one of which being the destruction of all forms of art and self-expression. And as you are well aware, that was something many could not stand for. As a result, those who opposed this tyranny began naming their children after one of the core aspects of art itself: color. It was their way to demonstrate that not only would they refuse to tolerate this oppression, but neither were the generations to come."

Ruby Rose. Weiss Schnee. Blake Belladonna. Even her own name, Yang Xiao Long, was Eastern Mistrali for ' _Sunny little dragon.'_ Ozpin wasn't wrong when he said what he had said.

Not of her own make, her mind began to dwell on another name. Jacob Muller. There was no color to be found there, not even a name that made one think of a color. At best there was the Old Mantle word for _miller—_ a name that brought the color green to mind—but that was a stretch at best.

She shook her head free of that thought.

"And it was a trend that is held to this very day. We encourage individuality, expressionism, and unity through diversity. As I have said, today we stand together, united. But this bond cannot exist without effort. Which is why today, while the rest of the world celebrates peace, Huntsmen and Huntresses will work to uphold it. As first year students, you will be tasked with shadowing a professional Huntsman or Huntress on a mission. Some of you may be taken out of the Kingdom for several days. Others may work within the walls for the rest of the week. But no matter which path you choose, remember to be safe, remember your training, and remember to do your very best. Thank you."

He nodded and stepped back. The crowds began to disperse. Yang spotted Jacob staring down at the ground as if his mind were elsewhere.

"Hey," she asked as she approached him. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," he said. "Just... thinking, that's all."

Yang wasn't sure what there was to think about. All she did know was that he needed to focus. "Well, come on," she said, "You'll have plenty of time for that on the Bullhead."

"Right, right," he said. "Now, we secure the mission. Probably on the 'Search and Destroy' board." They turned and followed the rest of the group to the mission boards.

They reached the board with ease, most of the rest of the student body taking to simpler missions within the city or other types of a similar demeanor. Only a few other squads were browsing the roster, including... Team CRDL.

Yang rolled her eyes. "Great," she muttered as the nine of them approached, catching Cardin's attention.

"Well, well," he said as he leaned against the pillar next to the screen, "Look who's raring to get kicked back to school with their tails tucked between their legs." He flashed them a villainous smile that made Yang's skin crawl the longer she stared at it. "Granted, knowing how some of you ladies are, that wouldn't be the only thing tucked between—"

Jacob quickened his pace, stepping in front of Yang. "Beat it, Winchester," he hissed through bared teeth, "or you won't have to worry about me being the one to kick your ass."

Half of the group started, including Yang. That was not a usual reaction for Jacob as far as Yang knew, and it was bristling with defensiveness. _What was that all about?_

Cardin smirked cockily at his bare-bones threat before he shrugged. "Whatever," he said. "Not like you losers will get anything as big as our mission. Come on guys, we've got a plane to catch."

The other three in his team corralled themselves around him as if they were dogs obeying their master. He strode by them, headed for the center of the auditorium. Yang couldn't help but notice Jaune and him share a snarl of mutual hatred as they passed each other.

Nora turned around and continued walking backwards as she gave Jacob a confused look. "What was that all about, Jacob," she asked. "You sounded like you were about to lay him out on the floor."

Yang's curiosity was also beyond remaining silent. "Why'd you step out in front of me," she asked. "I could have kicked him to the curb a lot easier than you could have."

Jacob blinked at their questions as if it hadn't occurred to him. He sighed. "Sorry," he said. "my patience with Winchester's been reaching critical mass as of late. Just was kinda reflexive."

Yang looked up at the rest of the group. Several—including Nora—grew sly smiles. She responded by flipping them the bird. "Come on, guys," she said, "let's not waste any more time, okay?"

Ruby nodded from her spot up at the terminal. She turned around and began scrolling through the list, checking for one particular location, along with eight other pairs of eyes.

"Forever Fall, The Stacked Plateau, Emerald Forest... where is it, where is it," Ruby asked to no one in particular.

Yang saw Jacob's brow crease in confusion. He walked forwards past the rest of them, coming to a stop beside Ruby. "Where the devil is it," he said under his breath as he leaned in beside her, tracing the side with his finger. "You can't be serious... don't tell me it glitched out? Oh my God, I thought I left my computer glitching back home!"

"Well, Mr. Muller, you'll be happy to hear that we do not encounter such glitches in the National Mission Roster."

All nine of them wheeled on their feet, with Yang being last to do so. She was met with the sight of Professor Ozpin standing right behind her, is usual calm and benevolent look on his face as he sported his usual mug— _seriously, when isn't he drinking something from that mug?_

"Oh, Professor Ozpin," Yang heard Pyrrha say behind her. "We didn't hear you approach, sir."

"My apologies, Ms. Nikos. I have been known to be quite light on my feet when necessity arises," he said with a chuckle. There was a shared laugh amongst them at the comment. "Considering how these missions are supposed to be assigned to singular teams, I am surprised to see you all corralled around a singular console, hunting a particular mission that was deemed too dangerous for first-years if I presume correctly; it seems that the region around the Southeast has been particularly popular as of late, wouldn't you agree?"

Again, they all made a similar noise, though this time it was a series of nervous and guilty hums. The only one to not have such a reaction was Jacob, who gave Ozpin a look that was halfway between humored and nervous.

Ozpin chuckled in his usual bright manner. "As a matter of fact, I see it's highly likely that you nine will find yourselves in the region no matter what mission you sign up for."

Yang chuckled nervously. "Uh... what makes you say that, Professor?"

"Call it a hunch," he replied. "Truth be told, your escapades have not gone unnoticed by myself or some of my colleagues. The docks, the battle at the highway overpass; whether you have been actively hunting the White Fang or luck has been drawing your paths together, I doubt there is any way to fully stop at the very least Team RWBY. I am surprised, however, that you are joining them on this, JNPR."

Jaune stepped forwards, within a few feet of Ozpin; Yang smiled at the memory of the guy being worried if Professor Oz so much as walked in his direction. "We made a promise to ourselves to help our sister team if they ever need us, Professor," he said in a calm but tense voice. "We want to make good on that promise."

For a brief moment, there was a pause. Some pessimistic part of Yang's brain worried that they would be shut down before they even so much as got a chance to sign up for a mission.

Ozpin smiled. "That is the kind of cooperation that gives me hope for the future, Mr. Arc. Test or no test, I was right in letting you join this Academy's student body."

The air around them started to get slightly heavier, as if lead had been added to it. Yang glanced over just as Jaune's eyes went wide and his pallor shifted a tone paler. "Uhh..."

Ozpin chuckled again. "A valiant effort at a forgery, by the by, I never got a chance to thank you for truly testing the computers at their forgery detection."

Jaune began to look as though he'll pass out. "Sir, please, I—"

Ozpin held a hand up. "There's nothing to be concerned about, Jaune. As I said, you've been an exemplary Huntsman-in-training so far, and you have done nothing to warrant expulsion. Now, as for this mission... knowing full well that you will no doubt attempt to make your way there with or without our permission, how about this: rather than wait and have you all breaking the rules... why not we bend them a little?"

Yang saw his Scroll tablet blink to life as he selected a mission. Even backwards she could see what it said: 'Search and Destroy—High Grimm Activity—Sector 5—Mission Start: ASAP'.

Ozpin punched in their team names before punching in another code she couldn't make out. His override code, if she had to venture a guess.

The screen turned green. A checkmark appeared beside the two acronyms.

"And as for Mr. Muller," Ozpin said, "since it seems as though he either cannot or will not leave your side, I have a solution for our policy for Lone Wolves. Despite the school's policies on Lone Wolf missions, we'll simply call his addition... extra security for the mission."

Ruby walked up beside Yang now, wearing that determined smile on her face. "We won't let you down. Thank you, Professor."

"Do not thank me for this," he said, his face losing the lightheartedness it wore not a minute ago. "Teamwork and persistence have carried you far. But you must understand, the things that await you beyond the protection of the Kingdom will not care. Stay close to your Huntsmen at all times, and do exactly as they say. They will be leading you on this mission, and they can have you sent back to Beacon, if they find your skills to be unsatisfactory, regardless of your ties to them. Understood?"

Yang knew that last part was directed at their Invincible Girl. She heard Pyrrha hum in understanding from behind her. The rest of them, including herself, gave him a simple "Yes, sir" in unison.

He nodded and smiled. "I wish you all the best of luck." And with that, he turned away and returned to Glynda's side.

Yang turned, feeling both a new sense of dread and exhilaration. "Well, gang," she said, "we're in. Granted, not with the most positive send-off in the world."

"He's not wrong, though," Blake replied.

"Oh, come on guys," Nora, "We're off on a world-saving mission together with Mr. And Mrs. Ultramar and... Professor Oobleck."

There was silence over the group as they let that last bit sink in.

"Huh," Nora said, "that detail was kind of a party pooper."

"Then we've got something that ought to make that better," she heard a familiar voice say. The lot of them turned their heads and were greeted by the site of Mr. And Mrs. Ultramar walking their way, dressed for fieldwork rather than time in the city. Titus' tan slacks had been replaced by similar-colored cargo pants, and his polo was nowhere to be found, instead replaced by a simple blue t-shirt with his stylized U shaped like an upside-down omega— _hey, how did I never notice that—_ and a dark brown leather satchel at his side that was strung across his broad chest. Mira, on the other hand, wore not much new outside a chestpiece of some kind, some type of plastic or polymer that was fastened over her shoulders and side as if it were the most basic armor belonging to troopers of the Great War. Both sported their weapons on their person, Mira's knife, pistol and rifle visible to all, and Titus' own weapons gleaming in their blues and golds.

Pyrrha walked up to them, though rather than throw herself at them in a hug, she stood proud and at attention, though there was still an air of casualness to her stance. "We're ready whenever you are, guys. Which landing pad is our Bullhead on"

Titus smiled as he looked about them all. For a moment, his eyes focused on one directly over Yang's shoulder. She remembered Jacob had been standing right about where Titus was looking. "Now, who said anything about catching a flight on a Bullhead?"

Pyrrha seemed to alight with excitement, her arms tucking in as if she were a giddy schoolgirl. "We're taking _Morning Glory_?"

Mira gave them a sly smile. "It's faster and it'll hold twice as many people," she said. "I hope you all have your bags ready, we're meeting at the ship ASAP."

A green blur passed them. The voice of Professor Oobleck rang out, saying, "T-minus 11 minutes to liftoff, students! Move with purpose, quickly now!"

Pyrrha and Jaune were first to start running after Oobleck, followed quickly by Ruby and Weiss with Nora and Ren in tow. Only Blake, Yang herself and Jacob remained, though in various states. Yang and Blake were sharing a look of confusion and intrigue; what other kind of ship could outpace a Bullhead in the sky?

She turned to check on why she didn't see Jacob take off after them.

* * *

The look on his face was one of both reserved excitement and gut-wrenching terror. Around him the other eleven Huntsmen and Huntresses talked amongst each other in various states of being. Across the way from him was Ruby, practically bouncing up and down in her seat, her harness forsaken in excitement; perhaps it was really just the odd jostle from turbulence. Yang and Titus were talking jovially with Jaune and Pyrrha, while Mira and Weiss made small talk near the front of the transport bay, right next to the door leading to the cockpit. Ren and Blake sat quietly opposite of each other, taking in the advanced technology that sat around them. Nora was on her feet, bouncing back and forth between gears and compartments, taking in every detail in awe and delight.

And Jacob was sitting quietly, his face vacillating between a big, dopey grin and a horror-induced grimace of fear.

Why the grin? Well, he was sitting in the hold of a Valkyrie Gunship, for starters.

 _An honest-to-Christ Imperial Guard Valkyrie Gunship._

Not some replica made effective by reverse-engineering, but an actual ship forged by the arcane hand of the Adeptus Mechanicus, tested in battles against Orks, Chaos and countless other foes of Mankind, and revitalized with Remnantine technology.

And he was headed to the starting point of The Breach.

Even sitting down, his knees were like jello; if he stood up, he'd probably wobble and fall to the floor in an elated, terrified heap of Huntsman.

Even after 5 minutes of flight this feeling had not changed in severity, neither rising nor falling. His heart was beating with excitement as his eyes glanced over the great war machine of the Imperial Guard, rendered in Poser to his eyes with an unusal amount of detail; dings and scuffs from battle that couldn't be buffed out; the remains of painted names and insignias on overhead compartments; and overhead of the cockpit doorway, a symbol was cast in gold, emeralds and sapphires—a squared frame encircling an eye similarly shaped like the Eye of Horus, cradled in the center of an upside down omega with sharp, angelic wings jutting out from the sides. The Ultramarine and Cadian Gate insignias hybridized; a unified house of the Imperium's poster children.

However, there were some retrofits of note; a very advanced-looking system of wiring and tubing snaked through the ceiling, and the twelve seats in the hold had been given some upholstery, as if it was now made for civilian usage rather than as the military workhorse of the Aeronautica Imperialis.

He felt like if he'd pinch his arm, he would wake up from this surreal dream back to something more mundane. He was tired of feeling like that; it was cool, but too distracting considering what lied ahead of them.

"Mr. Muller," barked the serious but content voice of Professor Oobleck, the beanstalk of a man zipping up to Jacob's left side with the speed of a cartoon character. "You seem uncomfortable. Are you alright?"

Jacob jumped in surprise the second he appeared. "Gah! Jesus, Professor," he said, "I didn't need that mini-heart attack. And... maybe a little. I'm nervous about this mission and how well I'll pull my weight considering... well, my level of skill."

"Doctor, please, Mr. Muller. And furthermore my boy, there's nothing to be worried about," Oobleck commented. "Professor Ultramar has spoken highly of your training sessions with Professor Cain, and considering you've had five-plus months of training as a Huntsman as well as several... _encounters_ in the field. I have little worry for your skill."

Jacob nodded as he assessed Oobleck's words in his mind. It was true, he'd learned more in the last five-odd months about combat training than he had ever dreamed he would, and in the week of training from Ciaphas he had already begun modifying his style to be more Huntsman-like with a tinge of Imperial flair, as opposed to his brutish, novice style. But it would only be out in the field where he would see if his changes bore fruit or not.

He wasn't going to pat himself on the back just yet, though. There was still a long day and subsequent night of combat ahead of them, and it wasn't just Grimm they would be fighting.

But still, He didn't pretend that he hadn't made progress. The question was whether it was enough progress to make a difference.

"Thanks, Oobleck," he said before he turned his attention back to the ground. He was getting too worried to be efficient; too much and he would falter, but not enough would make him reckless. He closed his eyes and began to do Ren's breathing trick that he'd shown him a few weeks ago.

Time passed, though how much was lost on Jacob. His breathing was his focus, trying to calm himself so he wasn't running around like a quivering idiot while he was out there. He focused his mind on things he knew calmed him down; the esplanade music at the Disney parks, the smell of hot tea, the sound of rushing water on the river running directly through the center of his hometown. And yet, it was only partially working. His mind couldn't separate the outside stimuli from the conjurings of his imagination.

He heard Pyrrha laugh, probably at some joke from Yang.

He felt just the tiniest bit of stress leave him.

Even with his eyes closed, he furrowed his brow. ... _What on earth..._

Yang and Titus laughed in response. Again, it seemed to steal some of that worry. A part of his heart then began to worry that his memories were losing some of their potency.

 _Worry, worry, all I ever do is worry,_ he thought to himself. _I'm a fucking wreck of a person now that I honestly think about it._

 _ **Thunk!**_

He was jolted by a sudden impact from below.

"Prepare to disembark, people," he heard Mira say. "Anything to report from out there, Agatha?"

He opened his eyes as he heard footfalls and the door to the cockpit slide open. Through it stepped a woman wearing a sand-brown trench coat and dark green fatigues, her black boots surprisingly stark in the bright, clean overhead lights that seemed too clean for Imperial tech. She was a platinum blonde and sported a moderate tan that to Jacob seemed a cognitive dissonance just to think of, but she carried it well. Her features were no different than any of the rest of the women present thanks to Volume 2's animation, but something nagging in the back of Jacob's mind conjured stronger yet softer features, rounded cheeks and a small, short nose coupled with a strong jawline and hard eyes.

Part of him wondered if his imagination was going crazy in his isolation from the viewpoints of the real world. Another part of him wondered if he some part of his own mind could see past the metaphorical filter over his eyes. Regardless, just by her fatigues alone he could tell he was looking at an Armageddon Steel Legionnaire... or at least someone closely related to one.

"Nothing to report," she said with a faint Germanic accent to her words. "Spotted a Beowolf pack about 2 klicks out, headed this direction but at a leisurely stroll at best. You should have plenty of time till they arrive in the area."

"We will be long-gone or else long-prepared when they arrive," Oobleck said.

"Good," Titus said as he took point in front of the Valkyrie's doors. "Huntsmen, prepare yourselves for a trial by fire."

The lights winked out overhead for a second, plunging the cabin into darkness and several of the young Huntsmen and Huntresses into involuntary startled cries. The lights kicked back in, only now a deep red tint; warning lights that the back door was about to drop.

"Courage and honor, Huntsmen," Titus called out as a sharp hiss filled the air.

A crack of blinding sunlight stabbed at Jacob's eyes. He squinted hard as the crack grew bigger and bigger. His eyes strained as if it were natural sunlight, only for the brightness to drop off as the door behind Titus quickly turned into a ramp.

"Let's go, let's go," roared Mira, now brandishing her lasgun and knife. The kids obliged, Jacob pulling up the rear as he chambered Cadia and Titan both, expecting the landing zone to turn hot at the drop of a pin.

The cooled air of the retrofitted Valkyrie gave way to a hot blast of late summer or early fall wind, warning him of the sun outside.

By contrast, the world he stepped out into was a corpse, cold and lifeless.

It was a ruined city, easy to recognize by the towering buildings that sat around them, reaching for the sky like skeletal hands. Concrete structures sat in decay, walls crumbling and glass windows shattered from the elements and other forces that Jacob didn't want to think about. The sidewalk he stepped out onto was cracked and uprooted, angrily breaking as if the earth itself had rebelled against them.

He shook his head as he tried to figure out how he was getting that from the filter over his vision.

The group of eleven Huntsmen and Huntresses stood about on alert, though eight of them stood in downtrodden awe. Jacob himself wore a grim sneer across his face as he looked about, knowing full well that this had once been a city full of life, a chance for the Kingdoms to break loose of their confines, only for the rug to be pulled out from beneath them.

"Welcome to Mountain Glenn, students," said Professor Oobleck, sipping quickly from his mug. "Now, as of this moment, your first mission as Huntsmen and Huntresses have begun. From this point on, you need to do exactly as we say if you are to succeed. Do you understand?"

The nine younger students nodded.

Jacob saw Ruby's pack out of the corner of his eye. A little black nose stuck out from the side, sniffing the air.

"Ruby," said Oobleck with a hint of authority and ire, "I thought I told you to leave your bags at school."

Ruby cringed, only to hold up a lone finger. "But you didn't say that I needed to listen to you yet," she said hesitantly. "So, I didn't."

Ren, Weiss and Blake covered their eyes in various ways as Jaune and Yang both groaned. Pyrrha only rose a brow at Ruby.

Jacob turned to look at Oobleck, smiling as he moved to steal one of Oobleck's lines. "Well, she's not wrong."

Oobleck looked over and reluctantly shrugged at Jacob. "Very well, Ruby, leave your bag here with Professor Ultramar's ship, we'll pick it up on the way back."

"But, I—"

"Young lady, what in the world could be so important in that bag that you would—"

" _Bark-bark!"_

The eyes of the entire group converged on Ruby, staring at the backpack. Jacob himself grimaced to act in character and in worry that perhaps things would divert in the timeline here.

Out of the top compartment of Ruby's backpack popped Zwei's head, the dog happy as a clam as he looked around at the group. He was panting heavily—no doubt from the heat of the backpack and the weather outside compounding on his corgi fur—though he seemed to hardly care at all.

"You can't be serious," Blake said as she recoiled back a bit.

"Oh my GOD~!" screamed Nora in delight, folding in on herself as Jacob noticed her finger dangerously close to Magnhild's trigger in its grenade launcher form.

" _Arf-arf!"_

Oobleck stood at his full height, wearing an unreadable look behind his full moon glasses. But the first reaction was from Titus and Mira, whom Jacob noticed had been pinching the bridge of their noses. Titus sighed as he stood to his full height. "We're out here in the middle of one of the most dangerous places on Remnant, hunting down both Grimm and a potential terrorist cell..."

"And you had the bright idea to bring... a dog with you," Mira finished.

Ruby looked like she would die of embarrassment. Jacob did not envy her position. "I.. I..."

"Genius!"

Everyone's heads zipped to Oobleck. The man zipped past Ruby in a blur of khaki and green and scooped up Zwei from her backpack. Before Jacob could process what had happened, he spotted Oobleck spinning in a circle around where he stood. "Canines are historically known for their perceptive nose and heightened sense of sound, making them excellent companions for a hunt such as ours!"

Zwei's face never changed as he was spun about. " _Arf-arf!"_

Everyone turned to look at Ruby. She was wearing a stunned look that quickly gave way to a proud smile. "I'm a genius," she reiterated, more than likely to herself more than the rest of them.

Jacob smiled. _You're not wrong, Ruby,_ he thought to himself as he locked eyes with Titus and Mira. They both offered him winks and the ghosts of smiles. _Nice acting on your parts, guys._

The other seven of their lot were in various degrees of reaction, though it was Blake and Pyrrha who were already in mission mode. "What's the plan, Doctor," asked Pyrrha.

"Ah, excellent," said Oobleck as he stopped, before letting go of Zwei and letting the dog bounce back to the ground. "Straight to the point! I like it! As you've been informed, the southeast area has been marked as a recent hot spot for Grimm activity. Now, there are several possible explanations for this behavior, one of which being... Grimm."

Jacob's eyes went wide as he remembered this part of the show. He wheeled on the spot, mentally two steps ahead of the rest of them sans Titus and Mira, whom were also quick to spin on their heels.

"Wait, what," he heard Ruby ask in confusion. He didn't look back, his eyes scanning the streets for— _Aha!_

There it was, as plain as the day he had first seen one: a lone Beowolf was walking forwards on all fours, sniffing the ground ahead as if following a trail headed southbound if the late morning sun was any indicator.

"Beowolf on our twelve, or six, or whatever," he said as he leveled Titan and took aim. "Hundred yards out at best guess. Guns out."

There was a cacophony of ringing swords, chambering hammers and transforming weapons as the rest of the group snapped to attention. Nora and Yang took up his flanks, both wearing fierce snarls. Past Nora, he saw Pyrrha enter a kneel, Milo leveled in its rifle form.

Titus' arm and hand entered his vision, thrust out at them as a mark of them to stop. "Hold," he said quietly, holding his Remnant-pattern Bolter aloft. "This is either a scout or the rest of the pack is not far behind them. We need to strategize."

"We might not have enough time to come up with something," Jacob said as the snout of another Beowolf poked out from behind a wall. "Case in point."

"Well, what do we do now," asked Blake, a hint of concern to her voice.

"We hide," said Oobleck, "and we track."

Jacob grimaced, his eyes still trained on the Grimm. "That'll take a long friggin' time," he said through his teeth. Another two of them showed up, following the first. One of them started turning towards them. Jacob's teeth clenched.

The Beowolf looked up, its soulless eyes boring into his.

"And now they've seen us," Oobleck said.

Weiss audibly blanched. "What?!"

"AND NOW THEY'VE SEEN US," Oobleck reiterated, his voice a megaphone in their ears.

"What do we do now," asked Jaune, drawing Crocea Mors from its scabbard.

"We can't run," Pyrrha replied, "And we can't find cover."

Jacob nodded tersely. "And stealth isn't an option anymore," Jacob yelled aloud, his fingers dancing on the gun triggers.

"Agreed," Titus said as he brought the bolter down. "Engage!"

Jacob's ears were assaulted by a thunderous cacophony. Dust rounds screamed around him, slamming into ground or screaming past the Grimm. Several shots, however, slammed into the Beowolves, dropping two of them in the volley; the choice of Dust marked the Grimm killers as Yang and Ren.

"Damn good shooting," Jacob said as he squeezed off another shot, skimming another by the shoulder. The two still standing began charging at them, teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

Just then, another six of them rounded that same corner, stumbling over one another to reach the group. Jacob's smile was short-lived as he redoubled his shots. Another four snapped off from Titan and Cadia each, emptying his magazine as two made purchase in a Beowolf's head. It slumped to the floor, only for another one to trample the corpse into black smoke.

A massive roar of a gun sounded off from his right. Titus' bolter retorted as the Beowolves roared, catching another one in the throat and removing its head from its shoulders with the force of the shell. Turned out that it still fired .75 caliber shells, if the emptied cartridges that spewed from the chamber were any indicator; they were half the width of his hand.

A smaller group of shells joined the bolter shells, originating from Mira's lasgun. She was firing on semi-auto, her Dust shells leaving solid light contrails behind them, as if they were the beam of a lasgun. She shot ahead of the Beowolves, rounds pinging off the concrete ahead of them, slowing their advance. But still they came, now 30 meters out and closing fast.

Jacob hissed beneath his breath. They were not going to get out of the inevitable melee. "Swap to melee," he said as he triggered Cadia's change with a flourish of his wrist. The chainsword shone candy blue in the sun, its features now made more impressive by the golden vines that gently snaked their way across the frame, breaking only at the place where the frame was split for changing. Set in the center, though, split in twain, was a scroll also set in gold, with a phrase etched into it.

" **Know no Fear."**

"Show us what you've got, students," said Oobleck as he stepped back.

Jacob smirked. "Chaaaarge!"

He rushed forwards, Pyrrha by his side as she rolled and changed Milo back into a sword. Jaune and Yang were right next to her, with Nora bouncing right up beside them. The Grimm were 40 feet out, mere seconds to impact. Ruby zoomed by, Crescent Rose pulled back behind her as she slammed into a Beowolf, slicing it in half with a single swing.

Jacob felt a smile of raw delight as his adrenaline surged, heart thundering in his chest. Even as the Beowolves rushed them, their horrifying faces snarling back at him, the smile couldn't leave his face. He spring-boarded off a pile of scrap as his Aura roared to life, his jump gaining two feet on top of the foot of scrap he had pushed off from. He gunned Cadia as he began dropping back to earth, swinging down at a Beowolf's head.

"Glory to the first man to die!"

* * *

They had been fighting on and off throughout the day now, clearing out building after building, city square after city square in a hailstorm of bullets and fury. Outside of Oobleck, almost everyone had racked up several Grimm kills over the last few hours, slaughtering packs of Beowolves, Creeps, and even a few miniature Nevermore flocks and even a Lancer that had shown up and started harrying them.

And still, they came in droves.

"Stay close together," Mira shouted, letting her Imperial Guard voice ring loud and ferociously. "This building's looking about ready to collapse any time now. Mr. Muller, anything upstairs?"

There was a thunk and a roar of surprise. "Argh... uh, nothing up here, Ma'am," he said through the crumbling ceiling, "only broken machinery and burnt paper."

Titus frowned at that; he was certain that there had to be a nest around her somewhere. "Alright," he said, turning to his wife, "This building's secure, but no sign of the Fang or Eightfold Path."

Mira nodded before she turned to the nearest student. Naturally, it was Pyrrha. "This block is secured, let Jaune know we're headed out to rendezvous with Oobleck and RWBY."

Pyrrha smiled as she returned the nod. "Understood, Auntie—sorry, Ms. Ultramar."

Titus smiled as he watched them. "Tell you what," he said, "While Oobleck isn't around, we can drop the formalities."

Pyrrha smiled and giggled a bit.

Titus and Mira had opted to act as the secondary wall behind the kids as they attended the mission, giving covering fire if they overextended themselves from the rest of the group with a storm of holy bolter fire and lasgun volleys. So far, it was a resounding success, with both teams RWBY and JNPR holding their own in substantial situations. Titus had personally commended most of them for singular pack-wipes that they had performed, with Ruby's being among the most amusingly-quick of them all. She was a sweet girl and yet ferocious in a fight, not unlike his own goddaughter was. It was strange to look at her and think to himself that she was the daughter of Taiyang Xiao Long and Summer Rose; she was a spitting image of Summer, bearing few of Tai's physical features. She even bore those mighty Silver Eyes that Summer had wielded on the odd occasion, though from what he knew she hadn't unlocked its power yet.

 _No,_ he begrudgingly thought to himself, _she'll learn its power through the death of my goddaughter._ He bristled as he thought that, blasting a Beowolf's head off its shoulders as it tried to attack from his right side.

Everyone turned to look at him, bristling in anticipated attack. He raised a hand to calm them. "It's alright," he said loudly, "just a loner."

Jaune walked up to the Ultramarine, his very demeanor both filled with anticipation and worry, as if he was approaching something that would damn him in an instant. "So, uh, where to next?"

Titus met the boy's eyes with his own. "Oobleck reported nothing of note in this district of the city, and he's busy with talking with Team RWBY about their reasoning for being Huntsmen."

There was a thunk and a grunt of pain as something landed behind them. Titus turned to see Jacob having landed on one knee from dropping through the hole in the roof, his hand balled into a fist as he made impact with the ground. His teeth were gritted in a swallowed cry of pain. "Jesus H. Fuck," he groaned, "I should have jumpstarted my Aura before I did that."

Mira sniggered as she walked up to him. "Three-point landings are not a particularly good method of getting back to ground level, Jacob."

"Fair, but they do look cool, and feel fun... up until flesh meets earth." He tried to stand up, wobbling and clutching his knee. Mira walked up and grabbed his shoulder, helping to steady him. He nodded in silent thanks.

 _He would have made a good Marine, at least in nature,_ Titus found himself thinking. _Only problem is his age and his physical conditions._ "Alright, everyone," he said as he turned back to JNPR, "we meet back up with RWBY."

Pyrrha and Jaune nodded before beginning to walk outside, followed shortly by Ren and Nora. Jacob began to hobble in their direction.

Titus had other plans, though. "Jacob, could we talk for a moment? I have some concerns."

Pyrrha and Jaune turned back to them as Jacob looked back at the Captain. Both read their own separate emotions, with Jaune's eyes reading of confusion and Pyrrha's of worry. Jacob, however, wore a look of grim understanding, only nodding before looking over to them. "I'll be fine, you two. Just let them know we'll be right behind you."

"I'll go with them," Mira offered, letting Jacob assume control of his arm and leg again. "Don't be too long."

"I doubt we will be, Mira," Titus replied as he leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. She replied with a quick return on his lips, sending a chuckle up his throat and a smile across his face.

"Awww," they distantly heard Nora say, "Why can't we be like that, Ren?"

"N-Nora, please," replied the boy, "not in front of the professors!"

Titus' laugh was first out before he was joined by his wife's laughter. "Don't mind us, you two," he said through his chuckle. "Go on, get a move on, that's an order."

A minute later, Mira and JNPR had begun to head back to the main plaza, leaving only Titus and Jacob to wander the streets, headed eastbound for the edge of the city. They walked in moderate silence but for the on and off staccato of bolter and pistols, the revving of a chainsword and the squelching sounds of a knife as long as a Titus' upper arm burying themselves deep in lone Grimm that strayed too far away from their packs.

Titus wiped his blade clean on instinct, knowing full well the Grimm's black blood would evaporate off of it anyhow. He turned and saw Jacob yanking Cadia free of a Creep with a grunt as he used his foot to anchor the beast. The blade was in its saber form, the teeth converged together to make a singular blade. "Excellent work so far, Jacob," said Titus to him. "You're not a half-bad Huntsman."

Jacob spun the blade in his hand before he sheathed it again. "Tell that to Cinder."

Titus grimaced in exasperation. "You're honestly going to compare yourself to a snake like her?"

"I can't pretend like there isn't a power gap, Titus," Jacob said. "Otherwise, I'm no different from anyone outside The Big E who decided to fight Horus that fateful day."

The Ultramarine was not keen on the comparison, especially considering who was listed amongst those names. "Be very careful about saying that, Jacob," he warned. "Even among the Ultramarines, Sanguinius and Ollanius Pius are both seen as heroes of the Imperium."

Jacob let out a tremendous sigh. "That may be," he said, "but they went into a fight thinking they could surmount impossible odds through sheer will; or, at least Sanguinius did. Ollanius... well, mortal against demigod empowered by four Chaos Gods is nearly as one-sided as you can get."

"And yet they both succeeded."

"One. One succeeded," Jacob corrected as he pulled Titan from his side and aimed up about three stories into a building. He squeezed off a shot, the retort of the .380 Dust cartridge echoing in Titus' ears. A Beowolf howled before there was a crashing sound, followed by another. The silhouette of a wolf-like creature slammed into the ground before a blanket of smoke blew from its body, releasing the beast from the ground.

 _Guilliman's Bones, he's a good shot with that gun._ "And which one was that," Titus asked.

Jacob turned back and looked him in the eye, coffee and chocolate brown eyes staring each other down. "Sanguinius wanted Horus to come back to the light," he said. "The Blood Angel though his bond with Horus could break Chaos' spell... suffice it to say, it failed and he wasn't physically enough to go toe-to-toe with the Warmaster."

Titus took a deep breath. "Be glad Dante wasn't around to hear you say that."

Jacob chuckled as snapped the safety back on with Titan. "Fair enough. And as for Ollanius, well... he wanted to buy the Big E time to snap to his senses, and that's what he did. Granted, I imagine some part of him desperately hoped he could land something into Horus... so long as he actually was mortal, not some Perpetual like some people think he was."

Titus' brow furrowed at that word. "Perpetual?"

Jacob shook his head. "It's an Emperor-type thing. It's hard to explain; basics is that a Perpetual tends to not be one to stay dead—or even physically age in some cases—unless the thing that kills them happens to destroy souls."

His brow went the other direction. "Really," he said. "And people believe Ollanius was one of these 'Perpetuals'?"

"A few books from an earlier timeline say that he—"

 _ **Thump.**_

Jacob stopped at the same time as Titus. "Wait. Did you feel that?"

 _ **Thump.**_

Titus nodded. "It's coming from the east," he said. The thumping continued, only now more and more frequently, as if they were...

Footfalls. Giant footfalls, like those of a Titan.

The two followed the steps for several minutes, the thumping increasing in frequency and strength. Titus thumbed the safety of his Remnantine bolter Providence on and off, a nervous tick he despised having developed years ago as a student. With each step, he became more and more assured of what those thunderous footfalls meant, and what exactly heralded them.

Soon enough, he knew exactly what.

"Oh, God," Jacob muttered from his side as they reached a crumbled wall along the edge of the city. Out past the wall laid the unclaimed territories just beyond the mountains, where the sharp ridges became rolling hills covered in the untamed foliage of Vale's forests. Out there, few humans could survive in any semblance of the notion, with only bandits the heavily-armed being the only ones to make a living in those realms. It reminded Titus too much of some of the Feral Worlds he had visited in the past.

But no world had the threat of Grimm by comparison, though Daemons in all honesty were quite close in nature from what he had learned. But, last he checked, no Daemon of the Dark Gods had the size and threat of Goliaths.

There was a humongous herd of them, easily fifteen or more individuals. They were massive in stature, easily standing between three and four stories tall on average alone, sporting tusks that made most commercial buses look shorter by comparison. With each step of their tremendous feet the ground shook just a bit, a thump like the earth's great and terrible heartbeat sounding out in their ears. It was like watching a group of Imperator Titans march to war, not unlike the Second Company's campaign on Signus Iconia when he was just a Neophyte with a sniper rifle.

"Goliaths," he said quietly, holstering Providence and patting the leather scabbard that held his knife. "They'll not trouble us."

Jacob's answer did not echo his reassurance. "They're closer than they were in the show... I think."

Titus glanced over to him. Jacob had his arms crossed and his eyes spoke of hidden worry, watching the Goliath herd traverse the forest, knocking trees over with their sheer weight. "They won't attack the city," Titus said quietly. "Well... at least not now."

Jacob nodded, though his eyes never left the herd. "How long do you think they've been circling Vale like this?"

Titus sighed. "Mira and I spotted the herd on our last trip to Vale. A rough storm forced us to enter from the southeast rather than the direct path."

"And when was your last trip to Vale before you heard about my arrival?"

Titus was silent for a few seconds as he debated with whether or not he would tell Jacob. "Three years ago," he said with a resigned tone to his voice.

Jacob said no reply. He only watched on as one of them turned its head to stare at them. Its red eyes bored into them, forcing an unconscious grimace onto Titus' lips. He hated when the larger Grimm stared at him; it reminded him too much of when a Chaos Daemon would stare at him, like he was some curious new food to try. It was like staring back into a Bloodletter's eyes, so full of malice and hate, but with a Grimm... there was always an underlying intelligence to those eyes, either dormant or well and truly awake.

It was unnerving, even to a seasoned Space Marine such as he.

The Grimm's stare seemed to shift to something just south of them.

Jacob sighed. "It must have spotted Ruby and Oobleck watching them," he said. "Which means Oobleck's probably gonna start interviewing JNPR about what made them Huntsmen in the first place. I mean, he just finished with RWBY, sooo..."

Titus hummed. "He already did," he said as he took a step backwards. "While you were with RWBY dealing with that second Beowolf pack."

Jacob blinked before he pinched the bridge of his nose. "In that case, then... I suppose we should expect that camp's gonna be made soon. Still, we should probably head over."

"Right," Titus replied, turning and beginning to walk away, Jacob mirroring him closely. "We should probably come up with an answer should Oobleck ask you the same question, right?"

Jacob nodded with a hum. "Won't hurt. But I guess some variation of the truth is in order."

Titus' brow rose. "Oh?" he said as he thought, _wonder what that means._

"...I guess... well," he said quietly, "I... saw someone I cared for very closely die because no one was there to back her up. She went alone against a threat too great to handle, and she died for it. And... and I don't want that to happen again. Not while I can make that impact."

Titus stopped as he mulled that sentence over in his mind. He studied Jacob very closely, as if he was reading a tactical readout with Sidonus.

 _This question's been egging at me for so long,_ he thought to himself, _now is as good a time as any to bring it up._

"Jacob," he said quietly, stopping the boy in his tracks. "If I may... you said as far as you knew, my goddaughter—Hell, myself as well—were fictitious back in your version of Terra. I find myself wondering... why is it that you care so much for my goddaughter?"

Jacob turned and stared at Titus with a look that was blank and yet read with many emotions all at once. He said nothing for a few seconds. "...Because she is perfect," he said. "She's kind and sweet, she's an amazing fighter, she's pure as the driven snow... and she deserved a happy ending." Titus noticed him blinking more, and his coffee brown eyes were starting to shimmer a bit. "And she was in love with Jaune and he was starting to figure it out, and then... it was all ended. She was taken from them, from us viewers, without so much as a body to bury or a proper chance to mourn her with the characters."

His voice cracked on the word 'body', and he was fully aware of it if the clearing of his throat was any indicator. "And I have an unimaginable chance to rectify what I feel was a grave injustice... to an angel who deserves a long and happy and exciting life. That's why I'm fighting, Captain Titus."

Titus nodded, his hand tightening on his belt. A lonely pendant rattled beside his hand, the bronze and silver halved bolter shell gleaming at his side.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, not even the wind daring to disturb this peace.

There was a grunt from a building, followed by a roar. An Ursa. Jacob froze, his eyes going wide. Titus noticed his bicep twitching, right where six slight discolorations marked with dents laid.

 _The bite on his arm,_ Titus deduced. _He still has some residual fear from that attack._

"Don't move," Titus said as the Ursa came into view, about thirty yards out from them. It was on Jacob's 7:00, putting it well out of his line of sight.

Jacob didn't listen entirely. His legs didn't move, but he did reach for Cadia sitting at his waist. The Ursa failed to notice them at first.

Jacob's arm was shaking a smidge. Just enough, Titus realized, that his shot might fail to hit its mark.

"Wait," Titus said quietly. "Breathe. Calm yourself."

Jacob's breath came out shallow and nervous, tinged heavily with worry. Still, he seemed to slowly be getting a better handle on himself as his hand slowly stopped trembling.

"Not yet," Titus said. "Wait for your mind to focus; not on the emotion, but the target. Even if you can't see it, you can still get a feel for it."

Jacob's eyes darted back and forth, a sign of his desperate desire to either dart around or move away. The Ursa sniffed the ground closely; they couldn't see things well if they didn't move. They were in a perfect position to show Jacob what it meant by the new script on his chainsword.

"Do you feel that," Titus asked cautiously. "That urge to run?"

Jacob nodded ever so slightly. "I'm gonna go for the kill," Jacob mouthed. "I'm not running."

Titus grimaced as he nodded. "I've got your back."

The Ursa roared. It had spotted them.

Jacob spun on a dime, pulling Titan out with his other hand. He leveled both pistols and began to fire in a flurry of shots, letting out an audible grunt as he did so.

 _Damnit,_ Titus thought as he brought Providence out and leveled it. _He's firing too wildly._

He wasn't wrong in his assessment. Several shots made their mark but were at best glancing blows, bouncing off the Ursa's thick hide. The beast surged forwards.

Jacob growled, turning Cadia aside and flicking it into its chainsword form. He fired a volley again with Titan, his shots now hitting their mark more frequently. One Lightning Dust round even managed to land a blow in its leg, slowing it. It was still forty feet out and closing, though.

Jacob stepped forwards, feathering Cadia's trigger. The chainsword purred angrily. The Ursa retorted back with an angry roar.

Titus aimed to strike it with a lethal blow; granted, a .75 caliber slug was lethal no matter where is struck.

Jacob dashed forwards, gunning Cadia as he roared out a battle cry. "Suffer no demons!"

They Ursa stood up, tottering forwards as Jacob got within arm's reach. It swung high, looking to take his head.

He kicked his feet forwards, flopping into a painful-sounding slide as he revved Cadia again. He managed to squeeze beneath its legs, slashing its back leg open with Cadia's spinning teeth. The Ursa stumbled and hit the ground belly-first, kicking up dust as it made impact.

Titus' finger slowly let off the trigger of Providence.

Jacob whipped back onto his feet with a slight stumble, though he still pushed forwards towards the Ursa. The beast was trying to right itself, but the lack of its back paw made it difficult. It only got worse for the creature as Jacob jumped onto its colossal back, shooting it in the back at nearly point-blank range. The beast's attempt to stand up failed as it hit the ground, still alive but very incapacitated. Jacob grunted as he swung Cadia up high, letting it hang in the afternoon sunlight for a second.

"Drop dead, fucker," Jacob said loudly as he swung down. The teeth embedded in the Ursa's snout with a wet sound as it roared its defiance. It shook, but its paralysis from pain and damage made them more like desperate wiggles rather than death throes.

A roar heralded Cadia's teeth revving to life. There was a sickening sound of bone rending to metal teeth as the chainsword began to carve in, making short work of the Ursa's head. No less than five seconds later, the creature jerked suddenly, groaned, and fell still as the grave.

Jacob's breath was ragged, as if he had run a marathon. His arms were trembling, and not from Cadia's revolutions.

Titus sighed as the Ursa's body began to dissolve at its feet. It would be some time before the beast was fully gone, unlike with insectoid Grimm. "Well done, Jacob," he said as he holstered Providence again. "I'd say you've earned your stripes, all things considered."

Jacob only nodded as he slowly yanked Cadia free of the Ursa's head. Even though there was no true flesh or bone, that sickening sound continued as he wrenched it free, a sound that Titus was far too familiar with to say that it was wrong. "I mean... it was kinda young," Jacob said after a second through haggard breathing.

"And yet most Huntsmen students couldn't take an Ursa alone in a fight outside of Ruby, Yang, Jaune or Pyrrha," Titus replied as he walked up and offered a hand down. "That was some good precision on your part. You should be proud."

Jacob hopped down after taking Titus' hand before he turned back to look at the beast. Titus could see the tiniest glimmer of a smile grow on his face. "Yeah," he said. "I guess I should be. It's a victory of some kind."

Titus nodded, smiling a smidge himself. "Good. Pride is not something to fear," he said, "it is something to use and reassure with. Now, it's getting dark, and they've no doubt set up camp by now. Shall we join them?"

* * *

 **So the battle begins, and this time with the backup of JNPR and a few more adults. Though, truth be told, things aren't quite the same as the first time around.**

 **Admittedly, I was struggling on where to end this Chapter, but I think this as good a spot as any, and it works, all things considered. Ironically, it ends before the events of the episode it's named after, so... yeah, that wasn't intended.**

 **But in all honesty, that last episode in Volume 6 was... something else. I've watched the scene with Jaune four or five times and it hasn't stopped making me weep like a baby. I hope you guys have seen it, and I hope you guys like it as much as I did.**

 **Anyway, next chapter will see our merry band fall right into the midst of the White Fang and Torchwick's hands... as well as the claws of Chaos.**

 **Reviews, favorites, follows, all of that stuff really help as usual and they help keep the steam going on this story, and as always, I will see you all in the next chapter.**

 **Bye, and Merry Belated Christmas and New Year!**


	32. 3:10 To Beacon

**Somehow, this is the longest chapter I've yet written and it took me less time than with other chapters... I'm not even sure as to why that is.**

 **On an unrelated note, while school has started and work has been on an off for me, I've been keeping up with the stuff in the show. Wow, was yesterday's episode something or another.**

 **On the one hand, I'm a staunch Eclipse supporter. On the other hand, Bumblebee is cute.** **Decisions, decisions...**

 **Anyway, on with the chapter.**

* * *

 **Chapter 32: The 3:10 to Beacon**

 _"The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him."_ _― G.K. Chesterton_

* * *

Night fell quietly and without much commotion, as far as anyone was concerned, and it was also fortuitous that it had gone without incident—outside of Nora almost spilling the stew they had made up for dinner. Even though it had been a simple stew of beans and ground burger meat, after nearly six hours of fighting and searching, it had tasted better than anything else most of them could have thought of at that given moment. The twelve Huntsmen and Huntresses sat in relative quiet, letting their minds focus on their food as they let the night slowly creep in. Someone would pipe up with a quick conversation, only for silence to take over again. The sounds of Grimm and animals filled the air as the night settled in, and the shadows grew long beneath and behind them as the sun left the sky.

Nora had wanted to tell ghost stories as the campfire raged on into the night, letting their imaginations run wild with ideas. Heck, Jacob had been up for the idea as well.

But RWBY, by comparison... seemed off. They seemed internally somber, if not outright externally so, and everyone had noticed it. Oobleck said nothing of it, and several of JNPR's members had wondered if he had even noticed it. Mr. and Mrs. Ultramar seemed to have noticed, but they had said not a single word to anyone about it.

Pyrrha sighed. That image of her godfather staring at Weiss and Blake as they in turn stared into the campfire didn't leave her mind easily, even now as she was trying to sleep.

She turned over in her sleeping bag, letting out an unconscious groan as she struggled against consciousness and the relief of sleep. It didn't help that she was still normally-clothed; as much as she had trained in the past, she was used to falling asleep in pajamas rather than having everything on her body; her corset, her short-shorts, her heeled boots and her greaves. She had thought to kick off her shoes and keep them close by, only to decide against it; it did her no favors if she had to jump up in the middle of the night and help fend off Grimm with her combat heels off her feet.

Only two things gave her some manner of calm as she laid in her sleeping bag, the flames of the campfire still going and dancing across her closed eyes.

Still snugly but comfortably hugging her head was the gold circlet that her father had made for her as a present for both her graduation and her third tournament victory. He had crafted it with her in mind, mirroring the features of her weapon and shield so closely as to feel a part of her. She loved the circlet so much that she even wore it to bed normally, only taking it off for showers and other disrobing actions like it. In all honesty, it was odd how much she wore it, even while it had been hers for nine months since her father had given it to her. Even the emeralds she adored, being both her favorite gem and ironically the color of her eyes; she sometimes worried if that was egotistical or not.

The discomfort remained as an owl hooted in the distance. She grumbled again as she reached for the sash that wrapped its way around her hips. It had been her mother's gift to her, a part of her original Huntsman outfit before she had hung up her own weapons to become a full-time mom. It was a silken thing of cloth, not particularly long or strong or anything really. And yet, it was so soothing, so comforting to feel even through her opera gloves.

A distant howl. A Beowolf. Pyrrha scrunched her brow in frustration. Her fingers mindlessly rubbed the silken scarf as she awaited sleep to claim her.

"Hey, Blake," she heard Yang whisper. "You awake?"

"Yeah," she heard Blake whisper back.

Pyrrha let out a tiny sigh through her nose. _I was hoping I was the only one to not be getting sleep._

"Why do you think he asked us about being a Huntress? Like, what was he trying to say?"

Pyrrha's brow furrowed again. _Is that what Doctor Oobleck had talked to them for?_

"Maybe he was just curious," Blake replied.

"You think?"

"No."

There was a pause for a second. "Weiss, are you awake?"

"Of course I'm awake! You two are talking," she said with a tired tone. "And I think he... When I said I wanted to honor my family's name, I meant it. But, it's not what you think. I'm not stupid."

Pyrrha stifled the urge to break her façade and rise back upright. She decided against it; this was Team RWBY's conversation, not hers.

"I'm fully aware of what my father has done with the Schnee Dust Company," Weiss said. "Since he took control, our business has operated in a... moral gray area."

Pyrrha suppressed a sigh. _That's putting it lightly._

"Which is why I feel the need to make things right. If I had taken a job in Atlas, it wouldn't have changed anything. My father was not the start of our name, and I refuse to let him be the end of it."

Pyrrha's brow loosened. She knew that Weiss had a cushy opportunity back in Atlas, but she had turned it down for Huntsmanship in Beacon. It had never occurred to her _why_ that might be the case; she knew Jacques Schnee's efforts with the company had made them rich beyond imagination, but the media was always buzzing with word of their shenanigans for Faunus workers. Was Weiss... hoping to depose her father someday?

 _Granted,_ Pyrrha thought, _she'll naturally do so when he steps down, but still... Maybe I've been wrong about her._

There was a sigh from Blake. "All my life, I fought for what I thought was right. I had a partner named Adam; more of a mentor, actually."

Pyrrha's curiosity piqued again. _The White Fang leader._

"He always assured me that what we were doing would make the world a better place. But of course, his idea of a perfect future turned out to be not perfect for everyone."

"Faunus only, no humans allowed." That was Nora's voice.

"Oh, Nora. I'm sorry," Weiss said, "did we wake you?"

Nora groaned. There was a sound like popping joints. "I wasn't sleeping well anyhow."

"Neither was I," came the voice of Ren. "Apologies. Please, continue."

"Right... yeah, his paradise had humans subject to the Faunus... eye for an eye, honestly. I honestly agreed with him for a time... I felt that the Faunus had been dealt all the cards we needed to get a hand up on humans. But... I started realizing that all I was doing—all we were doing—was only making things worse. So, I left. I left in the middle of a train heist and I never looked back. I joined the Academy because I knew that Huntsmen and Huntresses were regarded as the most noble warriors in the world. Always fighting for good. But I never really thought past that. When I leave the Academy, what will I do—how can I undo so many years of hate?"

Pyrrha felt her heart sink. To have lived in such a world of hatred for so long... Pyrrha found herself wondering how Blake was able to cope with all she had seen and done so far.

"I'm sure you'd figure it out," Yang said. "You're not one to back down from a challenge, Blake."

"But I am! I do it all the time! When you learned I was a Faunus, I didn't know what to do, so I ran! When I realized my oldest partner had become a monster, I ran! Even my Semblance; I was born with the ability to leave behind a shadow of myself, an empty copy that takes the hit while I run away!"

Pyrrha tucked in on herself. _She and Jacob are practically peas in a pod,_ she thought. _I hate when they put themselves down like this._

Yang sighed. "At least you two have something that drives you. I've just kinda of always, gone with the flow, y'know? And that's fine, I mean, that's who I am. But how long can I really do that for? I wanna be a Huntress, not really because I want to be a hero, but because I want the adventure. I want a life where I won't know what tomorrow will bring. And that'll be a good thing. Being a Huntress just happens to line up with that."

Pyrrha sadly nodded, a slight motion. _I've always seen Yang as the type for it; normal life never seemed to fit her well. But... I think she has more to bring the world than just that..._

"I'm not like Ruby, she's always wanted to be a Huntress. It's like she said, ever since she was a kid, she'd dreamt about being the heroes in the books."

Pyrrha's heart beat a happy beat at that, even though she still felt some of that lingering worry for Blake.

Yang continued. "She always wanted to be helping people and saving the day, and never asking for anything else in return. Even when she couldn't fight, she _knew_ that's what she wanted to do. That's why she trained so hard to get where she is today."

"Well, she's still just a kid," Weiss said.

"She's only two years younger," replied Blake.

"We're all kids," continued Ren.

"Well, not anymore," Nora said with a nervous chuckle. "I mean, look where we are! In the middle of a warzone, armed to the teeth. I doubt most kids could imagine that."

"It's the life we chose," said Blake.

"It's a job. We all had this romanticized vision of being a Huntress in our heads! But at the end of the day, it's a job to protect the people! And whatever we want, will have to come second."

"Then I've been a pretty poor Huntsman, I guess."

Pyrrha wasn't able to hold her surprise back when she heard Jaune's voice.

"Jaune," she heard Weiss say, "What are you talking about?"

There was a pause that hung in the air like a heavy blanket. Jaune sighed. "I... I wanted to become a Huntsman because of one thing, and one thing only. And that was that I wanted to be strong."

Another pause. Pyrrha could feel the tension on the air.

"I never attended any of the Primary Schools," he said, his voice a low sigh of self-loathing. "Honestly, I always wanted to be a Huntsman for the longest time; I thought I'd take up the family legacy and be as good a Huntsman as my dad had been and... that'd be that. I mean, I'd been raised on stories of my dad and my grandad, and countless generations of Arc men being warriors, going out and protecting people and earning their own little glories. And... I wanted to be just like them. So, I started trying to learn when I was ten. But... I never was able to get into the Primary Schools."

Pyrrha's brow furrowed in worry. This was a new story to her.

"Why's that," Yang asked.

Jaune hummed. "Well... I was okay in the academic field, C-average student, and I was fit enough to join, no conditions or anything like that. But... when it came time for the practice spars, I didn't know what I was doing. Every other student had the skills to back it up, and I'd been training at best with some basic skills I could even figure out. They'd wax me before the two-minute mark, and there was nothing I could do; I kept failing, time after time after time, getting knocked out or thrown, and I never knew why I couldn't hit, why I couldn't land a good strike or outrun them. Turns out, I didn't even know about Aura until Pyrrha awakened mine."

"How on earth didn't you know about Aura," Weiss asked with a tone of deadpan incredulity.

"My parents never told me! They weren't really concerned if I was successful or not, they said I was fine no matter what happened. I mean, sure, a nice gesture, but I just... I just started feeling worse and worse with each failure. An act of kindness was doing nothing to help me."

Pyrrha felt her heart sink. Her parents had never been so complacent; sure, they cheered her on no matter what, but they always knew just the right words to encourage her, just the right buttons to press in some cases too. They had been almost as heartbroken as most of her classmates and her neighbors in Argus had been when she decided to go to Beacon instead of Haven, but they had still never been prouder of her. It... it was disparaging to hear such a parental style to exist as the Arc's.

"So, when I failed my go at it when I was sixteen, I... I was about ready to give up. I... I just thought I'd never meet that benchmark, that same level of greatness all Arc men could be. So, after I turned 17 this last January, I decided I'd skip the pageantry. I'd... I'd forge my papers and get into Beacon and start my training from there. Gods, I was an absolute asshole, now that I think about it; all I cared about was living up to the family legacy."

Pyrrha's heart ached at hearing Jaune like this. Her arms twitched as she tried to rise up and reveal her slumbering deception.

"You think that's bad, try living in the past."

Pyrrha's arms stopped. That was Jacob's voice.

Yang cried out in a muffled yell of surprise. "I thought you were asleep!"

"With all of you gossiping around the campfire? Like Hell I could anyhow," he replied. "Besides... you all got me thinking about why I'm out here."

"Well, it's not like you had much of a choice," Blake said.

There was a shuffling sound, followed by footsteps. Someone stoked the flames of the campfire, sending fire light dancing across her eyes. "You're right and wrong at the same time," Jacob said to her. "I could have walked away and lived a normal life, or at least tried to since... you know, nothing to my name and all that. There was nothing stopping me, technically. But... ah, Christ, how do I say it right?"

"Hey, we're all bearing ourselves here," Nora replied, "no need to censor it for us."

Jacob sighed. The footsteps moved away, followed by a groan as he clearly tried to sit down. "Well... When I saw Pyrrha for the first time out there in the Emerald Forest... I felt like I was right back in the place I had been back home. And I was worried... it would lead down the same path as before."

Pyrrha's brow furrowed. _Before?_

Yang echoed her thoughts. "Before?"

"Yeah, before. There was... there was this girl that a lot of people liked—damn-near adored, come to think of it, and I include myself in that—anyway, and she was the best fighter amongst... well, anyone, really. And she wasn't sporting a swollen head over it either; she was kind and helpful and generous and... and just always willing to stick her neck out when people asked for help."

"Geez," Yang said aloud, "Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

Pyrrha couldn't suppress a blush. This girl really did sound like her.

"You see why I gravitated to Pyrrha so quickly; it was like looking at a living, breathing walk down memory lane," Jacob said. "And she had fallen in love at the time with a good guy, not a lummocks but not a genius either, and I mean that in the best way. But he had a good heart too; they were damn near perfect for one another, at least on paper."

Jacob let out a sigh as Pyrrha felt her breath catch in her throat; the similarities were perhaps a bit terrifying at first listen, but at the same time she found herself glued to this story.

"And then," he began with a big, terrible sigh, "one day, her little corner of the world came under attack. Grimm, some bandits, so on and so forth... there were just so many. And... she saw their ringleader, leading from the front. So... when everyone else was busy elsewhere... she rushed to fight her."

Pyrrha's heart went from sinking to cracking as she caught the tiniest waver in his voice. The conclusion was forgone.

"...They didn't even leave a body to bury... She was just... ashes in the wind. And... so many of us saw what happened and... we couldn't do anything. The only one who could reach her was able to at least drive them off, but th-the damage had been done. And all of us mourned her, and it still wasn't enough; even what mourning we did was nothing to that... that hole. It's silly to think about because, well, most of us didn't converse with her at all, but she was still a part of... of us."

Pyrrha felt an ache in her bosom as she heard a sniffle.

"Jacob... I didn't know," she heard Jaune say.

There was a sound like a choked laugh. "How could you know? Haven't exactly told this story to anyone else."

"So, you joined up with us... because Pyrrha reminded you of this girl," Yang said quietly in contemplation.

No word replied back, but even with her eyes closed Pyrrha could imagine his head nodding. "I know I'm not a good fighter," he said, "and frankly I doubt I'll ever be quite as good as you guys, at least from the perspective of a constant skill-climb; fuck, if my family's history is any indicator, I'm either a quarter of the way through my lifespan or a third of the way, so my time to train is past me and kinda moot at this point. I... I've nothing to lose."

"That's not true," Yang said, "You've got... well... you've got a career ahead of you."

"Smooth, Yang," said Blake.

"Well, you have us," said Nora. "Right?"

There was silence around the campfire. Pyrrha held a breath as she let Nora's comment hang in the air. _What... I mean I know what she means, but... is she..._

"I mean, you're three years our senior and... and yet you feel as much one of us as any of the rest of us. It sounds absolutely weird on paper, but... I feel like you're as close as any of us. And... hearing that out of you is a little disconcerting."

Jacob groaned. "I know, it sounds sorta suicidal," he said. "In all honesty, I hate the notion of an early death, but... that might just happen, whether I want it to or not; Her death was my wake-up call to that. And if that does happen, I want it to count for something in the long run."

Pyrrha's heart hurt that he would believe that such a fate to be his. What kind of final, ultimate goal was that, to hope that you die for the sake of others? Perhaps that was the endgame, but it wasn't a goal she would see as good or healthy or anything like that.

Her mind flashed to bright blue eyes and stark black hair. The ghost of Celly just wouldn't leave her be, would it?

Somebody shifted near the fire, casting their shadow over her for but a brief moment as they walked over. She heard the thunks of boots against concrete. She dared to peek open an eye.

In the darkness of the night, their shadows were cast long over the wall and ceiling, amplifying their heights. Still, Jacob was leaning against a wall, hunched and self-dejected. But in front of him, standing as if an ember freed from its fire pit, was Yang, staring him down as her hair flickered with light.

For a moment, Pyrrha's stomach lurched in worry.

Then, Yang pulled him into a tight embrace as he yelped in surprise.

"Don't even joke about that," she said in a somber mutter. "We all care about you, no matter what. You may be older than us and less-trained than us... but that doesn't mean you're weaker than us. That just means your stronger to step up to the challenge."

They stood quietly in their hug for a second before Jaune stood up and joined it. "You're one of us, Jacob," he said. "Nothing will change that."

Jacob was silent, and from where Pyrrha was she couldn't see his face. She could only see his hands as they quivered just slightly. She saw an arm wrap around Yang's back, and the fingers of his other hand appear on Jaune's back. He visibly squeezed as she heard his breath become a bit harder. She could just make out his voice as he gave them a response.

"Thanks, guys," he said with a waver to his voice.

Pyrrha smiled as she watched them hug in the campfire light. The feeling of sleep began to wash over her as she watched them embrace closely.

The last thought to drift through Pyrrha's mind was a simple thought. _Friends I never... could have dreamed of..._

* * *

…

…

" _Arf-arf!"_

Jacob's eyelids twitched at the sound of a dog barking.

"...Zwei... what... what are you doing?"

Yang's voice began to stir him from his slumber. He shifted from his spot, a crick in his neck forcing him to try to pop it.

 _ **POP!**_

"Ow..." His eyes bugged open groggily, blinking desperately to shake the sleep from his eyes. He was met with the sight of Zwei, a worried look on the dog's animated face. He barked again, the proximity rattling Jacob's eardrums.

"Jesus H. Fuck, Zwei," he growled as he clutched his ears. "Wait a second till you... wait, where's Rub—"

His mind was immediately beset with memories.

Ruby following after a pair of White Fang.

The earth crumbling beneath her, leading into a darkened, underground city.

Torchwick and the train.

 _It's go time._

Jacob sprung to his feet, looking over to where he had last seen a sleeping Ruby, cradling Crescent Rose as if it were her own baby as she slept atop her sleeping bag rather than inside of it. Where she had been sitting, now there was nothing but an empty red-and-black sleeping bag.

"Guys," he said, "get up."

Yang was already awake, her eyes scanning the area. Blake and Weiss were still just starting to stir, while Pyrrha and Jaune were already roused and ready to move. Nora was already on her feet with Ren, peering out from the building in a fruitless search. Outside, the world was still in the darkened clutches of night; Jacob looked down at his watch to see that it was 3:20 in the morning. "Where's Ruby," said Yang, a tone of worry to her voice.

"Ruby? Where are you," asked Nora as she peered out over the side of a crumbling wall, backing off just as a brick fell loose. "She's not outside."

Titus, Mira and Oobleck dropped down from the hole in the rooftop. "We haven't seen her," Titus said tensely. He knew just as well as Jacob what was about to happen.

"Check for signs of where she went," Mira said, a focus to her eyes that Jacob could see through the Poser filter. He suddenly felt very, very disconcerted.

Jacob turned and saw Jaune help Pyrrha up onto her feet. "She can't have gone far," Pyrrha said groggily herself. Zwei launched himself at her leg, pawing desperately. "It's okay, Zwei. I'm sure she's alright."

Jacob sighed. "Somehow I doubt it." He looked down at the corgi as it ran in a circle, a look of worry on his face. "Zwei," he said, "can you take us to Ruby?"

Zwei turned and looked at him with beady eyes. " _Ruff-ruff!"_

At that, the dog bounded for the doorway and out into the street before he turned around and stared back at them. He barked again, his little tail wagging once before it stopped.

"I'd say that's dog for 'follow me'," Jacob said as he started for the door. "Grab your gear, let's go!"

"Indeed," he heard Oobleck say as he followed Zwei out the door. "Your leader might be in trouble!"

Zwei whined as he looked at them, only to turn around and zoom off towards the destroyed city.

Jacob didn't hesitate to follow, only looking back behind him to see if they were following. Yang and Weiss were hot on his tail, with Jaune and Pyrrha right behind them, and Ren, Nora and Blake picking up the rear. As for the other adults—

 _ **ZOOM!**_

The streak of green and khaki heralded Oobleck as he zoomed past them. "Quickly now, children!"

Jacob turned back to be met with the sight of Titus and Mira thundering along with him at the point of the spear. "Come on, come on! Move it up," barked Mira, her lasgun in her arms as she charged forwards with them.

They ran for several minutes before they found the hole in the ground. Beside it lied Crescent Rose, still holstered in its rifle form. Zwei skidded to a stop before the hole and looked down, barking down into the blackened abyss. An echo returned.

"Crescent Rose," Yang said, the panic starting to mount in her voice. "Oh my God, she fell!"

Pyrrha ran up to the hole and peered down, Weiss joining her. "Ruby! Ruby, are you down there," cried Pyrrha into the hole.

"The safehouses," Titus assessed. "She must have landed in the underground passages."

"Oh my. Of course! Of course, OF COURSE, OF COURSE!"

Jacob turned to see Oobleck pacing. Weiss turned as well. "What is it?"

"How could I be so stupid?!"

Yang wheeled as she cradled Crescent Rose. "Dr. Oobleck, what's wrong? Is Ruby in danger?"

"Mountain Glenn! Yes," Oobleck began, darting between each of the young Huntsmen, "an expansion of Vale that was inevitably destroyed by creatures of Grimm! Previously home to thousands of people, working people commuting to the city, the main city! Developed a subway system to the inner city! Grimm attacks increased! Population in danger, now desperately searching for shelter! City evacuates into the metro tunnels and what do they find? The southeast quadrant of Vale is known for wild forests and deep caves!"

Yang's eyes were wide with worry. Her big sibling instinct was in overdrive. "Doc, what are you saying?!"

"My dear, we're not just looking for an underground crime network... we're looking for an UNDERGROUND crime network!"

Nora looked confused. "They've been working in caves?"

Oobleck shook his head as he turned and peered down into the crumbled sidewalk. "No, no, Mountain Glenn was Vale's first serious attempt at expansion. It worked for a short period of time, thanks to an aggressive perimeter defense, and unique transportation; the city developed an elaborate subway system to carry citizens safely from the new territory into the main Kingdom! Sadly, without the many natural barriers Vale had to protect its borders, Mountain Glenn was doomed from the start!"

Titus sighed. "As the end drew near, the citizens of the territory made one last attempt at survival: They took up shelter beneath the city, in massive caves that they had cleared out for the subway. And they cut themselves off from the surface to stop the Grimm's advances."

"An underground city," Blake asked. "That's what's down there?"

"In a matter of speaking, yes. A safe haven. Until..."

Mira cut in. "An explosion of unknown origin opened the mouth of another cavern, filled with subterranean Grimm. In desperation, the Kingdom officially sealed off the tunnels... and created the world's largest tomb."

Jacob grimaced. _And it's still not the biggest tomb,_ he thought as his mind flashed to the images of a Blackstone Fortress slamming into a planet, followed by the image of a battleship blasting Typhon Primaris.

"If Ruby is down there," Oobleck said as his thermos extended outwards into the world's most technological baseball bat, "we _must_ find her."

Yang didn't hesitate, jumping down into the hole the second he finished. Blake and Weiss were not long after her, followed by Oobleck.

Jacob turned to look back at JNPR and the Ultramars. "Let's move," he said, only to turn and pear back down... into the inky abyss. "Ah, fuck," he said, stepping back a few steps. He didn't fear heights like most, but not knowing what was at the bottom was more disconcerting than anything else.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He lifted his head and was met with Titus staring at him, a fire in his eyes. "Wanting to go home already, Huntsman?"

Jacob didn't say anything as he saw all four members of JNPR hook ands and walk to the edge, Jaune looking very nervous even while he held Pyrrha's hand. Jacob watched them as they stared down, a mixture of worry and determination and confidence awash over them. "We jump down together, on the count of three" Ren said. "Ready?"

Jacob sighed as he let the flame conjure in his mind. His Aura filled him quickly, no more than ten seconds later. "Wait up for us," he said as he and the Ultramars joined in. He took Jaune's hand before Mira took his as she slung Crescent Rose on her back, with Titus ending the chain. Zwei, ever the cute dog, hopped onto Nora's back and barked.

"Ready."

"One," Pyrrha said.

"Two," said Nora.

Jacob shouted "Three," and they all jumped.

Darkness overtook light as Jacob felt negative Gs on his stomach. "Holy fuck," he screamed out as they continued falling, both he and Jaune screaming in terror as Nora giggled with a 'Wheee!' all the way down.

The darkness gave way to dim light. They were approaching a concrete rooftop, and fast.

"Hit the ground and roll," Pyrrha said as she seemed to ease up, Ren and Nora doing the same. Jaune, on the other hand, was flailing about in panic, not unlike Jacob now that he realized that he was spinning his arms about like he was doing a breaststroke.

All seven of them hit the ground, the five trained Huntsmen and Huntresses rolling to disspell their momentum. Jacob tried, only for his vision to swim as he rolled and smacked his head on the concrete. Through his pain, he heard Jaune let out a pained yell of 'ow!' as he landed.

Jacob righted himself and was met with the sight of Yang's hand. He took it in earnest as she gave him a nod. "Alright, who's not dead," he said, "sound off."

There was a clatter from behind them, inciting Jacob to spin and bring Cadia to bear. The massive hellpistol glowed angrily with Fire Dust as he threatened to squeeze the trigger. He found himself facing the doorway that the White Fang goons had been when they found Ruby in the show.

This time was no different as another pair of White Fang stormed through the door. "Hold it right there," barked the man, a pair of Labrador retriever ears flopping past his cowl.

"Drop your weapons, human scum," added the woman, a fox's tail twitching behind her. "You're gonna pay for your crimes against the Faun—"

She flew backwards as a charge of Energy Dust slammed into her, sending her headfirst into the stone wall behind them. The man balked in surprise at the sudden disabling of his partner. Jacob could hardly react as a blur of blue and khaki slammed into the Fang soldier, crashing against the wall with a thud that would have indicated a concussion. Titus stood against the retriever Faunus, his arm over the man's neck as he stood there, a knife the size of Jacob's forearm gleaming out of a hold smashed into the rock. The Faunus struggled against Titus, reaching for a gun that now laid on the ground some 10 feet away after flying out of his hands and skidding over the concrete.

Jacob turned for a second to see who had shot. A trail of barrel smoke was exiting from the gun end of Gambol Shroud, Blake having raised it from its holster. Jacob nodded to her before he turned his attention back to Titus and his prisoner.

"You'll hold your tongue from calling for help, or I will make you regret joining the Fang." Titus said quietly, calmly even. For a brief second, Jacob wondered if Titus' mind had snapped back to the psycho-conditioning of most Space Marines.

The man seemed to cower at the domineering presence of the former Space Marine, his build and his height making him a towering presence around them all. No coherent word left his mouth, only vague blurbs and veiled threats shattered by cold, hard reality crashing down on the retriever Faunus.

He saw Yang jump forwards past him, one of her fists slamming into the rock wall just aside the Faunus with enough force to send a massive crack ten feet up its face. Her hair was glowing gold. "Where is my sister," she said with a dangerous edge to her voice. "Talk!"

"I-I-I don't know anything," he said with a worried but defiant tone. He turned his head to look past Yang at his partner. Jacob saw no stir from her.

"I sincerely doubt that," Titus said. "Tell us, and we'll let you walk free."

"Look," the Fang goon returned, "even if I did know anything, I both wouldn't tell you, and I'd tell you to turn around and forget her; she's probably dead by now, or worse—"

His head snapped back as Yang slammed her fist against it, only for his head to bounce back against the stone wall. Jacob saw a shimmer of orange Aura over his body.

Yang's hair was a firestorm. "You shut your damn mouth! Now tell us where she is!"

"Yang," shouted Professor Oobleck, "That's enough! We won't get any information out of him if we give him a concussion!"

Jacob strode forwards, Blake joining him as he approached Yang. Both reached out to grab her shoulder, Jacob noticing full well the outright campfire levels of heat radiating from her hair.

As their hands made contact with her shoulder, she turned, her eyes blood red at this point to complement the bloodthirsty sneer on her face.

"Yang," Blake said with some force to her voice, "please. Let me try."

"You," barked the Faunus, "You traitorous whore! Adam should have killed you when he had the chance!"

Jacob's brow furrowed as he stared the man in the eyes. "You don't get to talk to them like that," he said as he aimed Titan down at the man's foot. Before anyone could react, he squeezed the trigger—once, twice, thrice, four times, five times he squeezed. The retort of the pistol bounced off the walls, now a deafening ring in his ears. Titus and Yang both flinched at the sound as well.

The man screamed in pain as his Aura flared to life and flickered out of existence, destroyed by Jacob's volley. No physical damage appeared, but he was now without any protection from any more attacks. Jacob thumbed the safety on Titan as he looked back up at the man, a panicked look in his eyes.

"Now," Jacob said cooly, almost serenely, "are you going to cooperate?"

There was a slap across the back of his head as Weiss walked into view. "Not helping!"

"Okay, okay," shouted the terrified Fang goon, "I'll tell you!"

Jacob didn't need to say a word after that, only glancing at her.

Blake stepped closer to Titus. "Professor Ultramar, please," she said, "put him down."

Titus looked back at her at the same time as Yang. The blood red eyes had given way to her soft lilac eyes again, and the fiery glow to her hair, while still present, was now a faint glow rather than a blazing inferno. She and Titus looked at one another for a brief second before they backed off. The Faunus stood terrified against the wall.

Blake took a breath and walked up to him. "It's alright," she said in her calmest voice, "we don't want to hurt you. We just want to find our friend."

The Fang goon hesitated as he cradled his hurting foot. "...She got taken back to central command," he said after a few seconds. "Torchwick has her bound up. He's planning to put her on the train with the bombs."

Yang's hair glowed brighter again. "Bombs!?"

Jacob turned to look over at Mira and JNPR. There was a collective look of worry on the young Huntsmen, though Mira wore a determined look of focus in her eyes.

"Y-yeah," he said. "Torchwick added a ram to the front of one of the old trains on... some woman's orders. He's gonna plow it through the debris and set off bombs in the train cars when she gives him the signal."

Jacob grimaced. "The train cars... All the Dust robberies around town... bring it down here to load it onto trains set to explode... beneath the city."

The revelation, while manufactured by Jacob, quickly spread to the rest of those present who weren't in-the-know. Titus and Mira grimaced, while Oobleck scratched his chin in worry.

Pyrrha stepped forwards. "They're going to set the Grimm in the tunnels loose on the city," she realized, her face settling into a determined scowl. "We have to stop them!"

Jacob nodded, only for the Fang soldier to laugh bitterly. "You'll never get past my brothers and the Eightfold Path," he said shakily. "They'll probably kill you and the girl before you can even try to stop it. I'd say turn around and prep the city for the invasion."

Yang's brow furrowed angrily. "We aren't leaving without my baby sister," she warned.

The Faunus grimaced. "Then be prepared to fight like hell," he said. "'cause if those Eightfold Path guys get you, death's gonna be a sweet release; especially if those guys with that weird gender tattoo have a say in things."

Jacob's stomach lurched in a desire to dry heave. The Mark of Slaanesh. "If they touch Ruby in any way like that," he said, "I'll kill them all myself."

Yang and Blake were quick to realize what he meant. Blake stepped back in shock. "They... they wouldn't... she's just a girl."

The Faunus man cringed in obvious horror from flashbacks. "That hasn't stopped them; kids younger than her have already suffered. And even death might be a horror too if that big guy in the red armor has anything to say about it."

Jacob and Titus shared a look. "Eliphas," Titus said with a hiss of anger.

The Fang goon shook his head. "No, not him," he said, "he went into town. No, this guy's different. Tall helmet, no armor on his left arm, a big chainsaw-axe, a bandolier of skulls, you won't miss him."

Jacob's stomach flipped again. He stepped closer in urgency. "This man," he asked, "what's on his shoulderpad? What's his badge?"

"What does it matter," asked Yang.

"It matters a lot," answered Titus, a flash of worry in his eyes. "Answer his question... what is his badge?"

…

 _Have to get out of here, have to get out of here!_

She was pushing her Semblance to its extreme, thundering through the streets at breakneck speeds as Dust shells zoomed past her. She ducked low, desperately hoping to avoid getting shot in the back by the amassed firepower in the area.

A massive crater appeared in the ground beside her. She was quick to note it was significantly bigger than any of the other bullets. A trail of them followed shortly, Ruby counting ten in the span of a few seconds.

 _Oh my God, I have to get out of here!_

She hung a sharp turn as she saw one of his shots blast a hole in a wall of concrete. She let her Semblance cut loose, turning her into a blur of black and red and rose petals. She zoomed forwards in panic, ducking and weaving through the ruins. After three minutes, she finally stopped, heaving deep and frantic breaths in panic as she tried to recover.

She didn't know how she had managed to escape Roman and those two big guys. They had been so fast for their size, she had freaked out just by their very approach; they towered over even Yatsuhashi by comparison! It had to be their armor, that was the only way they could have been that huge. And there were so many of the White Fang and those freak gang guys, all wearing that eight-pointed star, and... that poor woman.

Ruby couldn't get that scream out of her head. She began to breathe faster and faster. _I have to get out of here, get to the guys, get out of here, I wanna go back to Beacon, I wanna go home I wanna go home I WANNA—_

She reached out with her left hand and slapped herself across the cheek. The sharp sting of the assaulted cheek snapped her from her stupor. "Knock it off," she whispered harshly to herself. "You're a Huntress! You're supposed to charge into the danger to save lives, not run away from danger. I should just... I should find a way back up and get the guys, and then we can take them."

There was a tremendous crashing sound from the direction she had run from. Her heart clenched in worry at the massive voice that echoed through the cavern she was now in.

" **You cannot run from me, little girl! I am tireless, and endless is my fury! Come, so that you may aid my sacrifice to the Gods of Chaos!"**

His voice was tremendous and echoing, like the rumblings of some gigantic serpent. Ruby looked down at the ground as she started to panic on what to do, only to spot a flutter of red out of the corner of her eye.

A rose petal fell to the earth, the lead of a train of petals that she realized had led a breadcrumb trail right to her.

She groaned as she slapped herself on the forehead. "Stupid," she muttered to herself. _I've led them right to me._

The wall behind her exploded, sending chunks everywhere, including into her back. Her Aura flared as it took the hit, sparing her damage but hitting her back with enough force that she could still feel pain as she sailed forwards and screamed in surprise. She landed and skidded to a halt, only to right herself to see what it was.

She immediately wanted to turn and run.

He was easily nine feet tall in his colossal armor, a dark grey that was almost black in the dim light of the cave. It was offset with blindingly bright gold adorning it, cast in faces she could recognize as horns, monsters and other things that were from a horror movie. Tusks and spikes jutted out from his armor, his right arm's shoulder pad sporting a massive monster's head as its design, and the left cast in a bright red the color of a lunar eclipse. Another set of giant tusks framed his... his _deformed_ face, sporting an evil grin that could also be mistaken for a snarl.

" **There you are, Girl,"** he said, his massive, clawed gauntlets flexing as the cannons in his hand glowed with the heat of his firepower.

Ruby scrambled backwards from the towering monster, more panic in her heart than she ever had with Grimm of this size. All things considered, she wasn't surprised; no weapon, an enemy that was equally. "S-stay back," she said.

The giant chuckled darkly. **"Running is a pointless gesture here. There are very few places to run to in Mountain Glenn where we aren't present. And even then... you will not last without a weapon."** He leveled his hand at her, the gun barrel inside the palm glowing with some kind of blue Dust that she couldn't recognize.

Ruby yelped as she saw the barrel light up. With a burst of her Semblance, she ducked out of the way as a ball of some kind of energy Dust slammed into the spot where she had been sitting. She smelled burning ozone and heard the crackle of electricity. She didn't look back as she raced off, desperately trying to find somewhere to hide.

After a few minutes, she dropped out of her Semblance and turned perpendicular to her original path. She stumbled as she felt the rest of her strength sap from her. Even with her Aura still at nearly-full strength, she needed a breather, or she couldn't keep going.

She stopped a few meters away, bent over herself as she panted. She'd never run from anything so fast and so hard in her life, and it scared her that she had run that fast. Sure, she'd run from scary Grimm when she was younger, but this...

What was this?

There was another explosion. This one was too close now for her taste. _How is he tracking me!?_

Another one. Even closer this time. The sound of running feet. "Run," she heard a woman shout, "Huntsmen coming!"

" **You fools,"** the giant roared in the distance, **"Turn back and fight!"**

A retort of some massive gun. Ruby jumped at that, followed by a distant scream of pain reaching her ears.

"Oh my gods, Uncle!"

Ruby looked up in surprise. _That was Pyrrha!_

"I'm fine," grunted the voice of Professor Ultramar. "Aura's still good, keep pushing forwards!"

" **No... It can't be,"** rumbled the giant, his voice now nerve-rackingly close. **"All units, fall back to the train, prepare to launch! We honor The Gods today! Cultists, attend our guests!"**

There was a resounding call of _"Yes, sir! Glory to the Gods of Chaos!"_ A thunderous cacophony of footfalls and ringing weapons being removed from scabbards passed by her little cranny. She couldn't see them, but from their hooting and hollering, their babbling in some tongue she couldn't make heads or tails of, even the madness-induced screams and trills she heard, they had to be... those psychopaths.

Ruby wanted to fight, to engage and take action, but without her weapon...

Well, she could 'borrow' a weapon from one of them.

She peaked out from the crevice beside her, watching them rush past her. Meanwhile, the sounds of gunfire and combat began to ring closer and closer.

She heard the sound of shotguns and swords and the sounds of Glyphs being summoned, and the panic began to lessen.

* * *

"Glory to Khorne!"

Jacob saw him just before it was too late. "Yang, look out!"

He dove at Yang as a rusted axe began to come down from a heap of concrete behind her, aiming to cut deep into her head. He dove and pushed her out of the way, the axe coming down in the patch of Aura over the small of his back. The blade bounced off his Aura as he and Yang rolled, Jacob crying out in surprise as he felt a dull thud against the attacked point. He landed on the ground and rolled to see what it was. He was met with the sight of a man dressed in dark brown, dingy robes and wielding an axe made of rusted metal. A fetish hung from his neck, the vague shape of a skull's face and cast in bronze.

The man brought his axe up high as he charged and screamed, "Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Th—"

 _ **BLAM!**_

The man's torso and head exploded in a squalor of gore and fire. Jacob blocked his eyes as he felt a spray of hot liquid over himself, and by Yang's scream she had been hit too.

Somewhere off to the side, he heard Weiss let out a bloodcurdling scream.

He looked up as the remaining legs and lower torso slumped backwards. He looked down at himself; his arms were covered in a spray of blood, and he presumed his face had been hit too. He looked over at Yang, who wore a face of shock and confusion, her hair now streaked with blood and her face splattered with it too as her eyes were wide with that shock. She looked over, and Jacob followed her vision.

Titus' bolter was smoking from its barrel as he wiped the blood from his brow.

Jacob's stomach roiled in disgust as he noticed a smell that only Satan could conjure up. He felt the urge to void his stomach as he realized that it was the smell of the corpse.

He turned to check on the rest, only to realize a stomach-clenching moment; No one in the show had seen anything quite like this.

The first thing he saw was Weiss' red jacket and skirt speckled with blood splatter, represented only by dark red spots of color. Even some of her hair was polka-dotted with blood specks. She was staring away from the corpse, her chest hitching desperately in panicked gasps of breath, mingled with dry heaves. Blake stood next to her, shakily wiping the flood from her arms and her pants. "I think we'll... we'll need to run to the laundromat after this mission," she said calmly, though a shake of worry was in her voice; she wasn't as much of a stranger to blood and gore as he thought. "Oh god, I never thought I'd smell that again..."

"Oh my gods..."

Pyrrha's voice snatched the breath out of Jacob's throat. He turned to see the four members of JNPR standing in shock, Pyrrha leaning into Jaune no doubt unconsciously by now, as Ren and Nora stood back in horror; Nora and Jaune both looked greener than a bell pepper as they struggled to cover their noses Beside them, Zwei growled worriedly as he shook some blood specks out of his fur.

Weiss, Blake and JNPR stood in their stupor for what felt like an eternity. Oobleck looked on from the sideline with a grim look on his face, having avoided the spray altogether.

Mira, however, walked up to the remains of the torso and pulled something from the pinkish-red blob that ha been most likely his sternum. She produced the necklace and brought it closer to her, studying it as her hand was covered in blood. "This one was an Eightfold Path member," she said as she stood up. "Khornate. Probably not alone." She turned her hand over to let Jacob see.

The mark of Khorne stared angrily back at him with promises of bloodshed and damnation.

"Cultists never work alone," Titus said.

"Rabblerous squads of ten or more," Jacob added with his memory from the Chaos Marine Codex. "More than likely far more than that."

"Oh my god," Yang said in a groan, "I think I'm gonna barf..."

"It's... it's okay—oh Christ Alive, that _smell,_ " Jacob said as he offered Yang a hand up. "I-I'm sorry. Yang, focus on... focus on Professor Oobleck, okay? Don't think about that guy or me, just focus on the good Doctor."

Jacob saw something round the corner, and he felt his spine crawl in terror.

They were a squad of easily three or four dozen men and women, all of various sizes and shapes and skin colors. Some were hunchbacked and deformed, others still were perfectly normal, some far taller than him and others shorter than him by a few inches, and some sitting in the margin between. Some sported very visible features of Faunus, and others still were human, but self-mutilated in horrific ways. They wore rags and makeshift armor, sporting rusted weapons and farming equipment. Across their collective count of cacophonic sounds and colorful bodies, he could make out scribbles in foreign scripts and marks painted across their robes. Skulls, fetishes, body parts and other things dangled from frayed ropes on their bodies, some still fresh with blood if the color was any indicator. Some looked pale with illness, others snarled with blood in their teeth, and some of the women had their chests bare to the world if he was seeing things right; He didn't want to know if he was right or not.

There was a sharp gasp from his side. Nora recoiled back in shock. "What are they!?"

Mira grunted angrily as she leveled her lasgun. "Chaos Cultists," she answered. "You kids run and find Ruby, we'll catch up with you."

'Wh-what? No," Pyrrha said, "We'll stand and fight with you!"

Titus stepped forwards, firing into the crowd of people. One person's body exploded in a deluge of gore, showering the others in the crowd. "Pyrrha," Titus barked over the retort of his bolter, "This is not your fight, this is ours. Find Ruby and get out of here! Go!"

Oobleck walked between them. "Miss Nikos," he said over the rising staccato of gunfire, "now is not the time to argue! Quickly, let's go!"

Jacob and her locked eyes for a second. He nodded. "We'll be fine," he said as he helped Yang onto her feet, pushing the blonde forwards as he met her eyes too. "I'll stay here and help them, now go!"

"No," Jaune said.

His Aura screamed at him to turn around. He did so as he drew Cadia and fired, a female Cultist with the Mark of Slaanesh branded on her forehead slumping forwards as a spurt of blood appeared in the center of her brand. She had been lurking behind a concrete wall, waiting to strike; she had been only seven feet from him, her head now resting near his foot.

His stomach clenched in terror; he'd claimed another life.

 _But Chaos Cultists cannot be forgiven for their heresy,_ a part of his mind said.

"This isn't the time or place to argue, Jaune! Go! Get Ruby and stop that train! I cannot be allowed to get into the city!"

He squeezed again. Another dropped.

Again he squeezed as he drew Titan and fired. Two fell over. He clenched his jaw tighter and tighter with each bullet fired.

Again, two shots from each flew together. Four stumbled, but three of them continued on.

They were forty yards out and closing fast. Jacob turned his head and saw them running off to the side, Pyrrha and Yang looking back at him one last time before they rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

Jacob grimaced and furrowed his brow. He pulled the trigger with abandon. More dropped dead beside those who exploded under Titus' shooting and Mira's volleys.

 _So,_ he thought, _this is what it's like to be an Imperial._

 _How ...grim._

Twenty yards out, Jacob transformed Cadia into its chainsword form. Titus and Mira drew weapons too, Titus' massive knife—more akin to a shortsword at that size—and Mira drawing a smaller Kabar-like knife as well.

Jacob stepped forwards as he fired, another two dropping dead as the Cultists surged forwards.

"No mercy, no respite!" he roared at the Cultists. "For The Emperor!"

"For The Emperor," Titus and Mira both roared beside him as they began to meet the charge head-on, guns still blazing. A few pistols rang out from the Cultists, zipping by them. Jacob flinched as one zoomed past his ear, only to notice Titus and Mira's Auras flair to life as they each took a shot. Still, their momentum remained as they charged onwards.

Five more went down to their combined fire before the two lines smashed together. Jacob slashed with Cadia as they converged, cleaving two in half and spraying himself with blood. His Aura didn't protect him from tasting some of it in his open, screaming mouth; his stomach curdled at that, only held at bay by sheer adrenal rage. He spat angrily in another's eye as he fired off a shot, mingling the last two's blood with the now-dead Cultist's blood.

He looked over to see he was not alone in the carnage. Titus and Mira were an acrobatic flurry of steel and flesh and faith, their Huntsman training mingling with their Imperial combat history. Titus brandished his shortsword in an icepick grip, slashing wide and catching a few that couldn't jump back across the throat, only to spin the blade in his grip and stab forwards as he blasted another off to his side with his bolter. Mira, by contrast, was grappling people in one-on-one fights that lasted for but a brief second as she slashed throats and bled innards with quick stabs and throws to move on to the next. Adding in a couple of acrobatic flips and kicks and Jacob almost mistook her style for a mixture of Blake and Pyrrha's styles, tinged with the intent to kill.

His Aura screamed as an axe came down on his shoulder. Jacob turned and roared, bringing Cadia around. The cultist that attacked him—a hunched over frog Faunus if his long tongue was any indicator—tried to block the chainsword's teeth with the haft of his axe, only to find that wood didn't match well against mithril teeth. Jacob saw the teeth approach the man's head and he looked away in a flash, only to feel the sensation of flesh and bone ripping and fracturing against metal. The man let out a gurgling scream. Jacob almost lost his lunch as he saw blood fly everywhere, instead opting to shoot with Titan, catching another cultist square in the chest.

He started losing track of cultists killed and how long they had been fighting; had it been a few minutes or well past ten, he didn't know, he was too busy trying not to die. These cultists sported untrained Auras or no Aura at all, his chainsword tearing through them like wet paper as Titus and Mira threw them about like sacks of potatoes.

The last few began to turn tail and run, panic overwhelming their suicidal charge. Jacob reloaded his pistols and began to fire back into the half-dozen remaining, bloodlust running hot in his veins. _We can't let them get away,_ his mind roared _, they'll bring more to Chaos' side! Kill them all!_

He and Titus were quick to fire on the breaking rabble, mowing them down as they retreated. Most were dropped by the amassed volley of Dust, bodies smoldering with Dust and burning flesh.

There was a click from both his guns as one managed to duck under the volley, another click retorting from Titus too. "Damnit," the Ultramarine hissed through tired breaths, "He's getting—"

 _ **ZAP!**_

A beam zipped past between them, striking the cultist dead in his shoulders. A flash of green Aura bounced the shot off, only stumbling the Cultist as their Aura broke.

Jacob turned back to look at Mira, whom was now kneeling as the end of her lasgun sizzled. "Fuck," she cursed through her teeth, "My shot didn't penetrate."

Jacob sighed as the guy rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight.

His nose recoiled in horror of the smell that the fresh corpses now gave off. His adrenaline continued to flow, but his brain began to snap out of its battle mode

He took a step and was met with the feeling of splashing something wet. He felt his blood run cold as dread began to fill his bones.

He didn't look down, knowing full well that even in Volume 2 animation it would be a sight that would haunt his nightmares.

"We're not out of this yet," Mira said as she wiped off her khaki cargo pants. A smear of blood was on the kneepad and the sheen of liquid shone on her boots. "Jacob," she said, "are you okay?"

Jacob's mind began to form an answer, only for it to die before his throat could even try to say it. His vision was starting to swim in the heat and smell and the nausea roiling in his stomach. He could feel an urge to gag between ragged breaths. He bent over and squeezed his eyes shut in desperation.

"It's alright," he heard Titus say, grabbing one of Jacob's shaking hands as he almost dropped Titan.

Jacob felt the bile rise, burning in his throat before he let the floodgate loose. He held his breath in desparation to avoid the smell, all the while taking a solid few seconds to empty his stomach in disgust.

He had probably killed well over a dozen men. All those lives taken by his hand.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered why now he was throwing up when he had already seen bloodshed.

"That's it," Mira said as he felt her hand on his back, "get it all out of your system."

The bile finished a second later as he cried out in terror and pain. "Oh god," he roared. "Is this... is this... is this—gah—normal?!"

"To throw up after your first battle," Mira asked.

"That's a hard yes," Titus answered, "Even for Astartes."

There was a scream of surprise. Another one rang out; one that he recognized too well as the cutest war cry in existence.

Even though his throat burned, his head shot up. The scream had been close, in the direction of the Cultist. "Ruby!"

He stumbled forwards into a run, worry gripping him as if it were his own little brother. There was a sound like a scuffle, a grunt from a male and the grunting of a girl far younger.

He heard the footfalls of Titus and Mira behind him as he rounded the corner. He saw the cultist on the ground, a dagger glinting viciously in his hand as he tried to bring it down on top of someone.

He saw the flash of a red cape. His stomach clenched. "Get off of her, you bastard," he roared as he charged the cultist, snapping the button to change his chainsword into its saber form. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed it faintly begin to glow blue, only or a crackle of electricity to spark off of it.

He slashed wide with the newly-forged power sword just as the Cultist leader reacted to his cry. His swing was too high as the Cultist ducked under and drove the knife into the patch of Aura over his Achilles' tendon. His Aura must have dropped low, as the pain radiated up his leg, sending him to the ground with a yell. He rolled as the cultist pounced on him, driving the dagger into his Aura again with a strong-armed attack into his chest Jacob felt his Aura flare in agony; he was dropping past 50%, and it was showing.

The cultist raised his knife again in the blink of an eye, looking to strike again and again and again until Jacob's Aura finally broke, and the angle he was sitting on Jacob's arm meant he couldn't draw Cadia to block it.

There was a gunshot, and the cultist's head snapped to the side like it had been struck, a splash of blood springing from his temple, only for him to collapse on top of Jacob's chest. Jacob shouted in surprise as he desperately tried to scramble out from beneath the man. A few seconds later, he had managed to scramble out from beneath the fresh corpse, desperately trying to catch his breath as Titus and Mira ran up to him.

"You alright," asked the Guardswoman as she offered a hand up.

"Uh... I-I think so," Jacob replied as he took the hand and returned Cadia to its pistol form. "Good shot, by the way."

Mira grimaced. "That wasn't me," she said as she gestured off to the side.

Jacob turned and saw Titus starting to hug Ruby closely, the girl appearing tiny in the massive man's embrace.

He saw Titan sitting at her feet, a Dust shell casing right next to it. His stomach dropped.

He could hear Ruby's breath, a panicky strangle as Titus shushed her. "It's alright," Jacob could hear Titus say quietly, in a voice he would not have expected from a Space Marine.

"I-I thought h-he had an Aura," she squeaked out, less of a cry and more a shocked scream. "I-I didn't mean to..."

"Sshh, it's alright," he said back to her. "You made the right call."

There were more footfalls, followed up by the sound of Ember Celica roaring. From the direction that the Cultist had probably been running towards, Yang and Weiss came running, their eyes wide with panic.

"Ruby!" Yang charged forwards, taking Titus' place as he backed away. "Oh my God, Ruby, are you okay?!"

"No I'm not okay," Ruby said as she clung to her big sister like a baby to a mother, "I-I-I just... I just shot—oh God!"

Yang hugged her tightly, smothering her as she said, "It's alright, Ruby... it's okay, Big sis is here..."

More gunshots rang out in the distance. Shouts and cries followed up with the clashing of blades.

"We're not done yet," hissed Jacob angrily as he picked up and reloaded both of his pistols. "We have a train to catch."

Then came another voice, a booming voice that rang many bells in Jacob's head as he heard every syllable that it conjured.

" **I shall offer your skulls to the Blood God for your interference!"**

His mind conjured the image of a Lord in Terminator Armor, clad in grey and gold and a single red shoulder pauldron. He turned back to the others.

Titus' face was caught deep in a thousand-yard stare. "It can't be..."

* * *

Ren went flying backwards into a wall, letting out a cry of pain. Nora followed suit, both sliding back to the ground in a groaning heap. Pyrrha could hear her Scroll buzzing that their Auras were in the yellow, already having taken some damage from a handful of hits.

She grimaced angrily. "He just... he won't go down," she panted tiredly, keeping her shield up as she saw his hand cannons light up with another round of Dust. Pyrrha dove out of the way, feeling the heat radiate past her as she tucked and rolled back onto her feet, tossing Akouo at him with a surge of her Semblance for speed.

Pyrrha smirked just a smidge as her shield slammed into his exposed face, a pulse of blood red Aura shimmering from his face and radiating outwards. The behemoth man roared and stumbled backwards a few feet as she rushed in closer, transforming Milo from sword to spear as she vaulted up and over him, narrowly missing the huge tusks around his chest as she landed behind him and swept at his legs. As her Aura reached to her weapon and amplified its strike with her Semblance, she felt the raw force of her attack meet a tremendous obstacle in the form of his legs. Still, the attack hit home and forced him to the earth as she reached out with her Semblance to help drag him down. Granted, pulling him down was like trying to yank a car into a full stop—something she had once done at Sanctum despite it putting her in the hospital—but this time it didn't stop her thanks to gravity's help.

The behemoth roared angrily as he hit the earth with a thud that shook the ground beneath her feet. She stepped back as his clawed hands lashed out angrily in desperation.

" **You shall die whimpering and cowering beneath my boot, you whelpling whore!"**

Pyrrha sighed as she ran back to her teammates. Off in the distance, she heard the distinct sounds of Gambol Shroud firing, followed swiftly by the sounds of swords clashing and Jaune's angry battle roars.

Nora and Ren limped up to her, both looking tired already. "Well," Nora panted as she reloaded Magnhild, "he took too long to knock down."

"I doubt he'll stay down," Ren added as he nodded. "We need to move."

Pyrrha shook her head at them. "Not without Ruby and the rest of them."

There was a scream and the sound of Ember Celica behind her. She turned just in time to see a White Fang operative fly several dozen feet in the air towards them, landing as a tumbling, screaming mass of limbs just a few feet in front of them. He tried to rise off the ground, only to fall limp with a pained groan just as a group entered the corner of her vision.

Yang's gold hair and Weiss' staunch-white hair was a dead giveaway. She smiled in relief as she and her two teammates ran up to the group, spotting Ruby running with them; that smile faded as she noticed the look of worry and horror on Ruby's face. Jacob and her two godparents were speckled with even more blood than when she had last seen them, and the haunting look in Jacob's eyes was also unnerving.

She walked up to them as she heard the giant cry out, the massive thud of Magnhild's hammer form telling her everything she needed. She embraced Ruby in a close hug as Yang joined in swiftly. "Thank the gods you're safe, Ruby," she said as she hugged them. "Are you alright?"

Ruby didn't answer at first, making Pyrrha's stomach clench in worry. "I... I'm fine," she said, looking up at Pyrrha with a smile that felt genuine and yet still... off.

She looked up to Jacob, noticing the blood splatters across his jacket, pants and shirt. "What about you," she said as she broke the hug with Ruby to walk over to him, the sounds of Magnhild striking still ringing out behind her. She placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "Are you okay?"

He looked at her and grimaced. "No," he said, "I'm not; but now isn't the time... especially with... _him_ nearby."

She saw his hand point back behind her. She turned just as her godfather walked up to the giant, still pinned by blow after blow from Magnhild.

"Impossible," whispered Uncle Titus.

The Giant stopped thrashing, blocking a swing with his arm. There was a terrifying chuckle. **"Well, well,"** the Giant said with a groan, desperately trying to right himself. Pyrrha saw his hand glow and ducked out of the way just in time to see his hand cannon fire off again.

Her godfather only stepped a smidge to the side, his eyes still wide in a terror and fury she had never seen on his face before. It was unnerving. "Nemeroth..."

" **Captain Titus,"** the armored giant said in a low growl. **"It's been far too long since Graia, hasn't it? And you outside of your Power Armor..."** the giant laughed a deep growl as he sent Nora backwards as he tossed her hammer-first back some twenty feet. **"The benevolence of the Gods knows no limits."**

"You want to talk to your gods," Jacob growled as he stepped in front of Pyrrha. "We'll be happy to send you to them."

The back of Pyrrha's mind bristled with questions. Captain Titus? Graia? Power Armor? Her godfather knew this monster?

The monster of a man laughed as he rolled on his stomach and rose with a speed Pyrrha had just previously thought impossible for such armor. **"Let us end this,"** he growled as he charged them.

Uncle Titus opened fire with his gigantic gun, Pyrrha expecting it to shatter his Aura and destroy his torso like that cloaked lunatic. Her shock was only increased as she saw the rounds slam into his armor, only to break apart in an explosion. Only a scar and a dent appeared in the suit.

 _What kind of armor is that!?_

She ducked out of the way as the giant's clawed hands swung wide, threatening to take her head off. Her godfather drew his shortsword and backed off as he continued firing with one hand, the recoil looking to be bone-breaking, but she knew full well that he could fire it safely. "All of you, stop the train, I've got Nemeroth!"

Pyrrha stepped forwards, drawing her shield. "But— "

"Don't argue with me, young lady! Go!" And with that, he continued to back off, drawing the giant named 'Nemeroth' deeper into the ruined city.

Pyrrha recoiled at the sudden outburst; she'd never seen him like that. She turned to look towards her godmother.

Aunt Mira looked back as she drew Vigilant Eye and reloaded the rifle, a stare of worry and determination on her face. "Go, we'll handle this. Make sure the city is safe."

Pyrrha grimaced. "We can't leave you guys down here."

"We're not giving you a choice." With that, Aunt Mira sprinted off after her husband, disappearing behind a wall.

Pyrrha sat there, knots in her stomach twisting and writhing. For the briefest moment, she worried that...

There was a train whistle that sounded off.

"Guys," Nora shouted as they turned around. "Train's leaving!"

"Jacob took off towards the train. "Everyone on to the train, now! All aboard!"

Pyrrha stood and watched as the rest of the group took off, turning back to watch the dust cloud of her godparents' fight with that monstrosity.

She grimaced as she turned her back on the fight.

 _We can't let the city be breached._

The group soon saw the train, just slightly starting to move as they approached it. Littered around the area were a few dozen unconscious White Fang operatives and some of those Eightfold Path cultists as well. A few of them she could see sported clean holes and cuts across their bodies that matched the strike patterns of Blake and Gambol Shroud.

Pyrrha's mind wheeled with concern and bafflement. _Why weren't their Auras awakened? Even the White Fang had theirs..._

"Come on," came the voice of Oobleck as he peaked out from the caboose. "Get on the caboose, hurry!"

Jaune peaked out beside him, offering his hand. "Come on, guys! You're almost there!"

Pyrrha saw Yang and Ruby launch towards the open door in their respective ways, with Weiss and Nora following right behind them. The train lurched forwards a tad, leaving herself, Oobleck, Ren and Jacob with an even longer sprint to make. Oobleck was on with no worries, and neither was Ren, only leaving her and Jacob to pick up the slack.

Pyrrha caught up beside Jacob. "Come on," she urged, worry tinging her words. Behind her, there was the distinctive growls of Beowolves, followed by... some ear-piercing shriek that she had never heard before. She looked back behind her, unsure of what she'd find.

Grimm, easily her same height, vaguely reptilian but bipedal, snaked towards the two at terrifying speeds; just from watching them she could see they were running faster than horses at full gallop. There were five of them in total, black bodies with white back stripes and bellies, with rectangular, long and snarling faces. Their eyes were scarlet irises set in black sclera, the usual boney plate over its head with a pattern of scarlet dots running down towards its snout. Their teeth were sharp and gleamed in the darkness, nagging Pyrrha's mind with a hint of worry. She looked down at their feet as they closed in, spotting the wicked sickle claws on their feet.

Her mind shot back to one of Professor Port's lectures. Lectures about... Saurian Grimm.

"Raptors," she shouted, "Get on board, now!"

Beside her, Jacob looked back. "Holy _fuck!"_

There was a scream again from the Raptors. Jacob's run became a breath-stealing sprint at the same time as hers did.

Both leapt up and reached to grab hold of something. Pyrrha found Jaune's hand as Jacob's found Nora's, both hands yanking them into the caboose. Pyrrha felt and saw nothing but Jaune's breastplate for a few seconds. Were they not very close to dying, she would have blushed at being so close to Jaune.

As she stood up, she heard Ember Celica roar in tandem with Yang, followed by a Raptor's screech and a Beowolf's howl. She rounded on the spot and pulled Milo free in its rifle form, snapping off a shot as a Raptor came into view, poised to jump on Yang. It's head snapped back and the beast fell to the earth as the caboose rushed past it.

Yang turned and looked back at her, flashing a smile. "Thanks, Pyr."

"What the fuck... who the hell let the Grimm get ahold of the Velociraptors from _Jurassic Park,"_ Jacob cried out, panting heavily.

Pyrrha grimaced in agreement despite her confusion what this 'Jurassic Park' was, only to drop the smile as she noticed a ticking sound in the caboose.

She located the offending item a second later; it was a small, metal structure of some kind, sporting separate cylinders of Fire Dust and another two that were a glowing, light-blue Dust of some kind. Weiss sat beside it, looking at it closely, and yet still poised as if to jump back at any second.

"Err... Professor?"

Oobleck approached and growled, "Doctor..."

"What's that?"

Oobleck kneeled down as Jacob approached his side, crouched over it with squinted eyes. "That my dear," said Oobleck, "appears to be a bomb."

Jacob grimaced as he looked up. "Yep," he said, "and it looks like a pretty powerful bomb at that. Bigger than any of these." He pulled out a makeshift IED from his jacket pocket, only to visibly blanch. "Oh my God, I completely fucking forgot..."

Weiss reached out and pulled loose the light blue Dust canisters. "Wait a minute; this is Plasma Dust," she said in surprise. "So this is where our first shipments disappeared to! We can't let them use this stuff, it's too volatile even for the strongest weapons!"

"What do you mean," asked Jaune nervously.

Pyrrha watched as Weiss carefully walked towards the doorway to the caboose and tossed it back behind them. There was a pregnant pause for a few seconds as they waited for a reaction.

Pyrrha splayed her legs out as a massive shockwave rocked the ground and the caboose, heralded by a massive ' _Krakoom!'_

"Well," Yang said, "That answers that."

"Uh, guys," Said Ruby as she peaked down from the top of the caboose, "We've got baddies on the rooftop!"

"We weren't expecting them to go easy on us anyhow," Jaune said as he drew Crocea Mors. "We cut beneath them and get to the engine before it hits the end of the line, or the whole thing goes up like a volcano. Blake, we're gonna need you and Ren to cut the cars as we pass, it'll disperse the bombs and potentially stop the final one from breaking the surface into the city."

Ren and Blake both nodded. "You can count on us," said Blake. The two ran to the doorway, prepared to breach and follow behind them."

Jaune turned to his fellow blonde. "Yang, you and I are our spearhead, we need to clear the path for everyone else should something get in the way."

Yang only nodded with a smile as she slammed her left fist into her open hand.

"Nora, you're on the roof with Ruby, deal with anyone who tries to get on the rooftop."

"You got it," she said as she skipped to the edge and leapt up to grab the top of the caboose, pulling herself up and out of sight."

Pyrrha watched on in stunned surprise at how quickly he was forming a plan. She hadn't seen this side of him in some time, and it was without a doubt one of the things she loved seeing from Jaune; those moments when he stepped up.

He turned to her, his blue eyes lacking any of that panic in them, only the true determination of a Huntsman. "Pyrrha, you, Weiss and Jacob are right behind me and Yang, cover the flanks in case any break through Ruby and Nora."

Pyrrha smiled. "No one will even get the chance."

"Damn right," Jacob said as he reloaded Cadia. She noticed the grimace on his face as he checked the magazine. He must've been running low.

"Professor," Jaune said as he turned to Oobleck, "can you help out Nora and Ruby?"

Oobleck smirked and nodded. "Of course, Mr. Arc. Come along, Zwei!"

There was a bark as Ruby and Yang's corgi sprung onto Oobleck's back as he followed Nora onto the roof, leaving the seven of them waiting for Jaune.

Jaune nodded as he turned to the doorway. "Let's move!"

* * *

 _Damnit, damnit, damnit!_

Yang threw another punch, knocking a White Fang goon out of the car as they breezed through the train car. Ahead, she heard the massive click of the car uncoupling as the floor beneath her lurched back.

"Step on it," she shouted. "They're uncoupling the car!"

"At this point," cried Jacob as Cadia roared and set another one of them flying into a wall, "it's pointless! We won't get to the engine in time!"

She burst through the door and leapt forwards, smashing through the opposite door.

"Eleven," Yang muttered under her breath as she heard the footfalls of the others behind her, the grunt of pain she was getting used to hearing from Jacob and the footfalls of Nora, Ruby and Oobleck on the rooftop.

"How many cars long is this train," Jaune cried out as he brought his shield up and smashed into a deer Faunus, sending the Fang operative into a wall.

"Just keep running," Weiss called out. "I'm sure we're almost there!"

Jacob kicked one of the bombs out the side door as he passed it, Yang hearing the bomb shatter and explode a few seconds later. "The Fang are getting more concentrated, we must be getting closer!"

Yang burst through the door just as she heard gunshots go off overhead. She shot through the next with ease. "Twelve..."

The next room was emptier than she had expected, no soldiers or cultists present. She could feel the hairs on her back bristle in worry. Something was off.

The seven of them heard a massive thud above them, squared imprints appearing in the roof of the car.

"Atlesian Paladins," Jacob noted as they kept moving.

Yang's stomach clenched in worry as it charged in the direction of Ruby.

There was a massive roar like a bonfire, followed by a crashing sound as something sent the train car up and over something. All seven of them braced or hit the deck as it passed just as soon as it had come. A small bark sounded off, muffled through the steel ceiling.

Yang smiled as she looked back at it. They continued to charge forwards, Yang looking back behind her.

She felt her Aura scream to life as the sound of an angry engine roared to life.

"Yang," Jacob screamed, "LOOK OUT!"

She turned just as the sight of spinning metal teeth came into view.

Her stomach churned as her neck erupted with pain, her Aura sparing her a grizzly death as she flew backwards. She didn't feel the ground for a full second before she tumbled over with a pained grunt, smacking into someone's legs.

A booming voice echoed through the car, deep and strong like she imagined a mountain would speak if it were sentient. **"Children... they send children to best us?"**

Yang felt her rage begin to build as she righted herself, realizing that she had landed at Ren's feet. "Alright, pal," she said, "who's the wise... ass..."

Her sentence died in her throat as she saw the man who had attacked her. _Oh my God, another one of these guys!?_

He wasn't as tall as the goliath of a man that had attacked Pyrrha, Ren and Nora, but he was still taller than even Yatsuhashi; this wasn't helped by the giant hatchet-like features on his scowling helmet, lined with what looked like bones made of red-painted bronze. Great chains hung from several parts of him, clinking as he strode towards them, a massive axe with spinning chainsaw teeth in his hand; what was even scarier was how huge it was—it was nearly as big as he was, beareded and bearing a screaming skull of polished bronze that still sported flecks of... something Yang didn't want to think about. He wore a chestplate of bright red with some kind of vent on the front, a bandolier of... of _real skulls_ over top of it. He wore only one arm plate, but one of his shoulders sported a pauldron not unlike that Eliphas guy did, only this one had that same mark the White Fang guy had described when they had arrived below.

A maw full of fangs, chomping down on a globe of blue and green, cracks and breaks shattering the globe.

A world being eaten.

" **You are a long way from Beacon Academy, children,"** said this new giant, feathering his chainsaw-axe's trigger. Yang heard the engine roar, and a feeling of dread crawled over her mind. The very engine sounded like a rabid animal, hungry for flesh. **"You have made a mistake interfering with us. Forgive me that I must make you pay with your lives."**

Yang felt someone push past her. She saw Jacob's brown hair cut in front of her vision as he stepped between her and the giant. Cadia rose in his hand. She noticed the faintest shake in it. "I will kill you if you touch them, Betrayer."

The giant stopped, twenty feet away from him. There was a visible look of curiosity from beneath his armor, the slightest tilt of his head. **"Betrayer... That is a name I have not been called in many an age..."**

Yang shivered at the age to his voice, something beyond her understanding in that low growl. "We'll fight you together," she said as she stepped up beside Jacob, brandishing Ember Celica.

" **I have killed more warriors than there are Huntsmen alive now,"** he growled as he feathered his trigger again. His other hand produced a bulbous, glowing pistol that made Yang uncomfortable. **"Gorechild will not discriminate between the blood of warriors and the blood of children."**

The sound of Crescent Rose firing overhead caught their attention. Yang spotted Jacob glancing at her, a look in his eyes. She met his look for a brief second, but knowing full well what he wanted to say.

"Jaune, Pyrrha," he said cautiously, "circle back around. Go with Ruby. We've... _I've_ got this guy."

Yang glanced at him in surprise. Did he... was he really going to... take this guy on by himself? "You must have hit your head," she said.

"I can buy you guys time," he said in a hiss. "Go, I'll hold his attention."

Yang's stomach clenched. She was not about to let him fight this guy alone. "Not a chance, Jacob. You guys go... _we've_ got this guy."

Yang saw something float past the corner of her vision. She turned her head just in time to see something in a white coat fly over her shoulder and land in front of the others.

She turned and was met with the sight of that tiny girl with brown and strawberry-pink hair, wearing a terrifyingly innocent smile as she twirled her parasol; Torchwick's little aide. Yang snarled as the rest of their group backed towards the two. They were trapped.

Jacob reached into the pocket of his jacket as he eyed the giant in front of him. The wild look in Jacob's eyes as he focused on the behemoth was starting to scare Yang; it was like he already knew what was in store for them just by looking at this guy.

Jacob's hand flew up into the air, letting an IED of water and fire Dust sail into the air.

Yang caught on without a second's hesitation as she fired up at it. The IED detonated, sending a thick steam cloud up around the room. Behind her, there was the sounds of a scuffle before several large thuds on the rooftop. They had made it onto the roof.

Now, however, that only left two-on-two. The two villains circled them in the clearing fog like starving dogs circling a wounded cat. Yang was facing the behemoth, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Jacob staring down the little ice-cream girl.

"Alright," Jacob said. "You get Neo, I'll take him."

Yang felt her blood pressure rise. He didn't think she could take on this guy? "No," she said, " _I'll_ take this guy!"

She heard Jacob call her name before she rocketed forwards on the recoil of Ember Celica, yelling as she looked to give him a superman punch to the face.

The giant ducked out of the way, spinning his 'Gorechild' in his hand as he tried to catch her off guard. She went to ground and rolled into a crouch, now having switched places with the giant. Behind him, she could see Jacob desperately duel with Ice Cream Girl, the tiny chick merely dodging his every attack, spinning her parasol like it were a Sunday stroll.

The giant lunged forwards at her, a kill box formed on her from the various crates and the very walls of the car. She had no choice but to meet his lunge with a charge, only to see the chainsaw-axe— _chainaxe, that's a much better_ name—again swing at her, hoping to bisect her the long way. She ducked low as she felt the whirring teeth breeze past her legs, rolling before springing up and catching him in the jaw with her left fist.

She bit back a cry of pain. Her hand was shooting with agony, like she'd punched a mountain full force. The big guy stumbled back, clutching his armored chin in surprise. She jumped back onto a crate, holding her hand closely as it pulsed with pain.

Yang found herself utterly confused. _But... My Aura's still more than eighty percent strength. Who the hell is... no,_ what _the hell is this guy!?_

" **A clean blow, girl,"** the giant rumbled. **"I commend your battle prowess. My old friend Lotarra would have liked you."**

"No offense, big guy," she said as she took a step back, "I don't know who that is."

The giant went silent. Something about him began to exhume rage. He slammed into the crates that she had been standing on, sending her back into a wall. She heard the ungodly screech of metal rending to metal as his chainaxe slashed them open. Yang backpedaled and fired off a Fire Dust shell, the shot making a direct hit. He only slowed a smidge as she fired off another, and then another and three more in rapid succession. He continued to charge forwards as he fired his glowing pistol.

Yang had no time to react as the ball of... something slammed into her. She felt heat and incredible pain, enough to stumble her and make her body scream with pain as it slammed into her shoulder. She lunged forwards and punched, managing a good strike again in the crook of his throat. The giant roared in pain as he spun out of the way, swinging around in a twirl and catching her knee with his chainaxe.

Yang winced as she landed and rolled back to a knee. She grabbed her shoulder where it had struck as she stood her ground. The area was hot, ridiculously hot at that. Worse still, her knee was throbbing from that glancing blow; these weapons, or more likely he himself, were stupidly strong.

The good news to that was that Yang thrived against tougher opponents.

She felt the heat in her chest absorb the heat of the impacted spot. Her heart was thundering in her chest, that rising bloodlust growing again. She knew full-well that her eyes were glowing red now as she felt her blood pressure spike. The pain resonated before her focus went to the giant, now kneeled and wheezing as he clutched his throat.

"Had enough, big guy," she spat cockily as the edges of her vision began to ignite with gold light.

The giant groaned as he stood up, coughing as he rubbed his throat. **"That—*** _ **cough**_ ***—that was a good shot."**

"Plenty more where that came from," she said as she slammed her fists together, a roar of an inferno emanating from her as she ran towards him.

The giant growled as he returned the charge, his chainaxe roaring to life as he fired his pistol again. Yang sidestepped this one, and kept charging, leaping high as he swung his axe. She hopped high enough to vault over his head, a mere few inches from the massive blades on his helmet as she squeezed and blasted into his skull. She went flying into the air as the giant wheeled and fired, missing again as she spun in the air and landed. She landed, turning her arms and firing back behind her to surge forwards again, her fists blazing with fire. The giant caught her fist with the axe, knocking them away. She fell into her rhythm again as they began a dance of blades and fists, the giant keeping up with her attacks as fast as she could make them. A punch would be met with a redirect into the strongest parts of his armor, a kick to disarm him would lead to him rounding the momentum on her and landing glancing blows against her. The fight lasted less than a minute, but to Yang it felt like every second was a minute of readjusting and deciding on a spot to strike, fighting her anger as she realized that she couldn't strongarm him into submission; not yet at least.

Every so often, she would steal a glance over at Jacob. He was struggling against the tiny girl, every strike of his being dodged only for her to strike him with her parasol or a backhanded kick. Jacob's Aura was surging with energy now, so close to failing as he was wreathed in blue shimmers. Cadia was making minimal impact, and any time he backed away and shot at her, she would bounce towards him like a psychotic preschooler, still wearing an uncannily pleasant smile on her face, only just tinged with malice.

Yang's stomach churned with anger and worried thought as the giant's axe and her fist made contact again. This was a losing battle they were in... and there was no escape they could make.

Her strength was immense now, nearly the largest she had ever felt before. Maybe, just maybe, she could overpower him.

She pulled an uppercut and caught him in the jaw. Her fists were starting to get numb with pain as she kept striking, though by now her best swings were in the obvious chinks in the armor. The giant's head snapped up as he wheeled back a step, only to retaliate and slam his scowling helmet into her forehead. She squeezed her eyes shut in pain as she staggered back, only to feel an iron grip take her throat. The breath in her lungs stopped as the grip tightened.

She felt her feet leave the ground. Terror started to grip her heart as she began to thrash wildly.

" **You cannot hope to best me, child. I am your superior in every way."**

She desperately struggled against his grip. She kicked her feet and threw a punch with Ember Celica, but it flew wide, chipping off a piece of his helmet's hatchet blades. Her fiery hair began to roar in desperation. Her head was starting to swim. "L...l... let me... g... go," she hissed out through her squeezed windpipe.

" **Squirm all you wish. You will not break my grip."** he drew the chainaxe, the weapon suddenly seeming far more intimidating as its teeth began to spin. **"Another offering to Khorne, the blood and soul of a worthy warrior."**

She couldn't think straight. She felt her legs go limp and her arms became too heavy to swing with. Her sight was filled with stars. She looked over through crying eyes and saw Jacob go down, desperately trying to rise from his stomach, the ice cream girl pulling a blade from her parasol. She poised to run him through, the thin blade gleaming terribly in the dim light of the train car.

She could barely make out what he was saying now, but some part of her swimming brain still worried that these would be the last words she heard. **"When you arrive... Khorne's domain, tell him that... Khârn of the World Eaters who sent you..."**

Her eyes began to close as she distantly heard the sound of a revving chain. _No... I don't... I don't wanna... wanna... die..._

The grip slackened all of a sudden... Or had she fallen... Or was this was dying felt like? No, no, she felt pain on her ass as she hit something, a distant sound like thunder roaring in her ears. The air rushed into her lungs with such force that she found herself coughing, coughing like she would hack up a lung. Everything felt fuzzy, her vision was blurry, every sound was muffled as if she were hearing it through a wall of pillows. Panic desperately roared to life in her veins, her mind struggling to stay conscious. _Air,_ the animal part of her brain screamed, _need air!_

She coughed and coughed, finally managing a strangled breath after a brief second before the coughing started again. Her stomach roiled angrily. The sounds of a fight echoed around her, the same roar of the giant now tinged by another blade. Had Jacob gotten his second wind?

She looked up with what strength she could manage. Her vision was met with Jacob on the ground, struggling to get up. The ice cream girl—Neo, her name was Neo—was backpedaling, only to disappear in a flash.

Her strangled mind was confused. "Wha... how..." she wheezed out, only to feel her head get heavy again. SHe heard a colossal thud and felt a tremor.

" **You won't best me, Branwen,"** she heard the giant say before there was a sound of clashing blades.

Her heart leapt in hope. _Uncle Qrow?_

She dared to look up, but the sight she saw still threatened to catch her breath in her throat.

It was a woman, clad in a miniskirt, some kind of tied top and a set of thigh-high boots. She had a mask of bone-white and red markings on, like she was a Grimm, and behind that was a mass of wild, black hair. She was wielding a massive katana of red metal, raised as if poised to strike, an air of primal power behind her.

Beneath the mask, Yang could see blood red eyes that seemed to glow with an angry fire.

The giant was just climbing back to his feet as he revved the axe. He leapt forwards and swung down, only for the woman to sidestep and catch him in the jaw, throwing him into the air. She sheathed her sword, leapt after him and spun into a thunderous kick, throwing him back twenty feet against the back door. The whole thing dented and began to tear away as the giant groaned on impact. He started to rise to his feet. **"I am the Champion of Khorne, Slayer of Angels. You will not best me so—"**

The woman made no comment as she landed with her blade in the ground and shot forwards, a blaze of fire following behind her as she carved through the ground. She stopped ten feet from him and swung her blade up, sending a wave of fire roaring towards the monster.

The back of the train rent from the strike, revealing that the previous car had been detached for a while. 'Khârn' went sailing backwards, roaring angrily as he hit the dirt and train tracks, becoming lost in a sea of Grimm following the speeding train.

The woman stared back at the crowd of Grimm, a visible sigh sagging her shoulders as she drew the flat edge of the blade over her arm and sheathed it.

Yang's heart beat with shock and awe as her breathing just began to level out. She tried to stand up, only to feel the world go sideways again. She planted a knee on the floor, grunting as she realized her Aura had mostly been destroyed by that Khârn guy.

Without even needing to think about it, she grasped her neck, that feeling of his fingers around her throat still tickling the back of her mind.

The woman rounded on the spot, drawing her sword. She stopped as she tilted her head.

Yang felt the words want to escape her mouth, only help back by fear. Finally, it came out as a squeak.

"M... m... Mom?"

The silence was palpable, a blanket of steel that muffled even the sound of the Grimm charging behind him. Was it really her, after all this time?

There was a groan from behind her mom. "Raven," came Jacob's voice in a groan of exhaustion. "Couldn't have timed that better..."

Yang's thoughts lasered in on Jacob's comment. He... He knew her mom? Did he know this whole time?

From the first syllable, she had reacted just slightly, but tensely enough for Yang to start worrying. She reached for her sword and drew it, a scar of black and red appearing in the air. But rather than like Blake and Weiss' wind pulses when they attacked, it stayed in the air and only widened, becoming a gigantic hole in an invisible curtain. She stepped towards it, sheathing her sword again.

"W... wait," Yang said as the fear of her mom disappearing overwrote everything. "Mom... P-please, wait..." She tried to rise to her feet, only to stumble again. She saw Jacob rush over to her and bend down to grab her hand and pull her up. She took it without ever taking her eyes away. "Mom... stop!"

Raven stopped. For a moment, Yang's elated heart thought she would turn around.

"Good luck."

She stepped through the scar. It caved in on itself, leaving nothing.

Her mother was gone, just like that.

Yang's heart felt like she could roar in anger and cry in agony all at once, the pained breaths in her lungs mirroring the fresh heartache. The desperate smile dropped off her face as a coldness and the pain of the fight took over.

She felt arms encircle her. "I'm sorry, Yang," she heard Jacob say. "But... we have to go."

Yang felt like her whole body was made of lead. Leaving sounded like a herculean task all of a sudden.

"Y... yeah," she said solemnly as she took a step on a wobbly leg. She could feel her Aura slowly returning already, though she could feel a hum in her body.

 _The smell of bromine-shocked water and screams of delight as bouncy orchestral music rang out. A mountain beside a river, set to red-pink sunsets shining over it all. The tapping of a keyboard, the smell of cinnamon rolls, a roar of make-believe battle, the rolling of dice._

It dawned on her that she'd had this feeling before, when her dad had first been training her. These weren't her sensory memories, no, this only happened when someone... was sharing their Aura.

"Jacob," she said quietly. "you don't need to do an Aura share."

Jacob looked at her in confusion. "Huh? I don't know how to do that."

Yang stared at him for a good long second. "Well, you're doing it right now," she said as she pulled out her Scroll and showed him. His Aura—down to 37%— was draining fast as hers slowly crept back into the yellow; 20% and growing.

Jacob stared closely at it, shaking his head. "How the... I swear, I'm not doing that consciously."

Yang was starting to feel the wind catch in her sails again, so to speak. "It can accidentally trigger," she said as she stepped away, severing the connection. She looked down; 25% each. She grimaced. "You need to get your Aura trained."

Jacob sighed sarcastically. "Funny that everyone keeps telling me that. Come on."

She had no time to rebuke as he began to make for the next door. She was right on his tail, though her mind was now stuck at that exact spot where her mom had disappeared. She followed him up onto the rooftop, where they saw the others standing, staring forwards.

Ruby, Blake and Yang turned to them, followed by Pyrrha and Ren. The former looked worse for wear, sweat glistening off of their brows. Weiss' Aura had looked almost as bad as theirs when Yang had checked. "Guys," Ruby said worriedly, "you're okay! We saw your Auras drop, and yours was flickering in and out and I thought—"

Yang's heart tightened as she brought her sister into a hug through the whipping winds of the train's back. "I'm alright," she sighed, her mind still remembering that panic she had felt as the lights had begun dimming. "But... Let's just say I have a new appreciation for breathing."

"Uh, guys," she heard Jaune say, "there's a wall coming up!"

Yang looked ahead. Sure enough, a massive metal wall painted with caution tape patterns was coming up on them pretty quickly.

"Fifteen seconds to impact," cried out Oobleck.

"What now," asked Blake as the winds whipped around them.

Yang turned to look at Ruby, only to see her give a nod to Weiss. "Everybody, cluster up," she shouted, "and hold on to something!"

Yang's eyes went wide with understanding.

 _Great._

Still, she did so as she and Jacob embraced the nearest two to them—Jaune and Pyrrha—looking around at the others as they braced. Ahead of them, Weiss was summoning a glyph before she stabbed into the train's roof, a great wall of ice encircling them and rising into a cone shape overhead of them. They were plunged into anxious darkness, just slightly illuminated by the light in the tunnel.

Yang braced up.

For a brief moment, the world was terrified tension as she heard the staccato of four heartbeats thundering with exhaustion and the tiniest bit of fear.

And then it all exploded.

* * *

 **Cliffhanger-but-not-really-because-we-know-what-happened-in-the-show!**

 **Maybe it's because this chapter was easier to write because some of it was basically copied from the show with some additional bits and details of movement thrown in, but somehow I reached 18000 words on this chapter and completed it in a far quicker span than I am used to. Granted, this will probably be a rare case, not counting for what's to happen next chapter and during the Battle of Beacon.**

 **Speaking of the former, next chapter, The Breach is opened, new Grimm appear in the invasion, lives are on the line, and The Angel descends...**

 **As always, reviews, likes, favorites, all that you want to do or not do, any feedback from you guys who read this is helpful for keeping the steam going on this project of mine, and I hope you will join me next time. Until then, I will see you all in the next chapter... Bye~!**


	33. The Breach

**...How in the hell did I get this long of a Chapter...**

 **You might want to get a bag of popcorn for this one. 20,000 words and all that.**

* * *

 **Chapter 33: The Breach**

* * *

" _we few, we happy few, we band of brothers—for whoever sheds his blood with me today shall be my brother."_ — _Henry V,_ William Shakespeare

* * *

His fingers nervously drummed on the wood table he was seated at. He hadn't touched his plate of food in well over ten minutes, and his coffee sat half-consumed as it began to grow cold. Papers a plenty littered the table he was seated at in the Inquisition's meeting room, illuminated brightly by the Military-grade Scroll he had expanded in front of him with its blue-tinted glow. Reports from the outer territories of seismic activity, thermal readouts of the city and the surrounding two hundred square miles of ruins and mountains and forest, criminal activity reports from the City of Vale Police Department, requests of mobilization from the Vale Community Militia for security purposes; all of these and more littered the table, already some gaining stains from the mug of coffee spilling each time he brought it back down to the table. In front of him, the images of several of his top generals continued to buzz silently to each other, the mute button on the Scroll bright and red with activation. The long night with brief moments of respite in the land of sleep had taken its toll on his patience, leaving his lieutenants—even Winter, his most trusted advisor—to speak amongst themselves of the amassed information.

He was glad that it was a voice-only meeting, otherwise he would have been forced to take it somewhere less private. At least here, he could walk away and check on Amber as he calmed down or processed information. At least here, he could take a moment to be alone with his thoughts.

At least, that was the case normally.

At his side sat two men of note, both brandishing a mark of the Eye in the I, their de facto symbol for their little secret society. The first was clad in a bright white leather jacket with a popped, tan fur collar and red stripes on his jacket's arms, starting at the cuffs and ending at the collar. He wore black jean pants with several belts attached, each one bearing a set of miniature tools of some kind; most were mechanist gear like wrenches or sealed bottles of oil, but others carried grenades and something that seemed to be a crushed leaf of some kind. He was vaguely tanned from time out in the sun, a long, flowing mustache and goatee on his face to accent his stark black hair drawn back in a topknot. His eyes were a stormy blue-grey, easily mistakable for silver like Ms. Rose's eyes were, but weighted with a wisdom that discomforted the Atlesian general. At his sides, red, silver and white pistols sat in reinforced holsters to stop the blades that acted as a finger guard on each one. Beneath his jacket was a t-shirt and bandolier, a bronze buckle on his shoulder painted with a concave rectangle and a lightning bolt streaking across the center of it.

The second man, seated across from the first, was far more... _eccentric_ would be too flimsy of a word for a man basically the same height and build of Ironwood, and yet seemed to be less of a presence. He was dressed in a medical long coat that was an unusual dark grey color in the torso and white along the sleeves, lined with yellow-gold epaulettes on his shoulders to denote his status as an Atlesian Army field medic. Under that he wore a red button-up shirt, pressed damn-near to perfection as far as Ironwood was concerned, separated from his black dress pants by a cream snakeskin belt with various bottles and vials of medicines and concoctions of his. Black boots and gloves completed his outfit, while a pocket watch's chain of solid gold hung from his chest. He had a faded buzzcut and a large handlebar mustache more stylized than the one his compatriot wore, and a great scar ran down the length of the left side of his face, starting at his chin and ending at his hairline. His look was calm but was tinged with worry of its own, hidden behind a sense of profession that he was well known for back in Atlas. His Eye in the I was a small thing, a simple decorative pin on his collar that Vulkan had fashioned for him. The larger thing, though, was the gold bolo tie around his neck, clasped together by his mark: a stylized red scorpion, its tail curled in towards itself as it looked straight down towards his feet.

"At this point, Ironwood," said Sugodai Tsagaan, the man in white, "There is nothing that we can do."

Ironwood glowered at him. "I know, I know," he said calmly, avoiding letting the exhaustion consume him. "But... is this really the best course; now I'm having my doubts."

Across the way, Pythol Umbaras nodded grimly. "To send in children like that," his gravelly, throaty voice rumbled, "is to make them court death; surely Ozpin understood this. Surely _you_ did as well."

Ironwood pinched his brow as a dull throb began to manifest in his temples. The cup of coffee was starting to wear off, much to his ire; caffeine seemed to do less and less to him with each passing year, and his tasks only seemed to increase in frequency and frustration. "Sending in Titus and Mira was our way to make sure they were safe," he reassured. "They even suggested it in the first place."

"That means little if we have to bury empty coffins," Pythol replied.

"You doubt their skill?"

"I doubt nothing about them," he replied with a glower of his own, "but skill can only carry so far, James. I thought you of all people would remember that."

Ironwood growled as his cybernetic hand clenched hard on his coffee mug. He heard a tiny cracking sound from the mug.

"Boys, please," came the forceful voice of Glynda from the other end of the table. Ironwood blanched in surprise. "Glynda, how long have you been there?"

"Long enough to overhear those reports from your troops," she said. "I don't like what I'm hearing one bit."

Ironwood nodded. "Titus and Mira are still out there with those kids," he reassured again. "I'm sure they will inform us what's going on."

"It does not take much for fate to play against us," Sugodai pondered in his faint East Mistrali accent. Ironwood had forgotten just how much he could sound like a philosopher when he wanted to. "We should be prepared to intercept anything invading the city from that edge of the city's borders."

"That will mean little if they are slaughtered out there," Pythol replied angrily.

"And what would you have us do," replied Glynda. "Invade into the mountains at full strength!?"

"Atlas' present military force is enough to deal with any Grimm in Mountain Glenn!"

"Think of the casualties!"

"Would you have your closest friend and her husband leave their son an orphan!?"

Ironwood's skull was throbbing as he finally stood up. "That's enough!"

All three turned to him as the sound of anything seemed to escape the room.

Ironwood gripped his nose bridge again. "While I am inclined to agree with Pythol," he began cautiously and firmly, "We have our orders from Ozpin. And right now, as much as I honestly want to put my military instinct to use, Ozpin's plans have the highest chance of success. Now, if that changes, I will happily act in what I consider the best interest of both Vale and Atlas, but for now, my hands are begrudgingly tied."

Across the way, A great burden seemed to be lifted from Glynda's shoulders. Her features seemed to soften as she watched them, a look of both relief and contention in them.

"Bah," said Pythol as he picked up a report, "I still don't like it. Too much error and not enough room for it."

"Be that as it may," replied Sugodai, "as I said before, there is nothing we can do at the moment. We should take some time to calm down, let our minds refocus. Let's start with the basic one I've been thinking: How Amber is doing."

 _Well, that's not going to help our mood_ , Ironwood thought with a sigh. "She dipped into the red a few days ago, but we managed to stabilize her. To be honest, I'm getting worried."

"Ozpin is too," Glynda replied. "He just doesn't show it. And I'm getting worried about not hearing anything from Eustace."

"Mendoza is quite busy on Lionheart's behalf," replied Sugodai. "Always was."

"Her heartrate has increased by 2.4 percent over the last few days," noted Pythol from the readout before him. "And her brainwave patterns are getting more active."

Glynda looked at him with a hint of worry. "Is she coming around?"

Pythol shook his head. "On the contrary, it's a sign of the body making a desperate last attempt to break free of the coma. I feel we are reaching Amber's twilight soon, and I have my doubts that she will make it out. Even then if she does against all odds, most parts of her mind will have been used so little in the last five months she will be no better off than a Down's syndrome child for a significant amount of time, on average four months. Just look at her physique as of late; her legs are practically the last bits of muscle and bone as of now; I can just barely see her ribs, for fuck's sake."

Ironwood grimaced as his words hit home. He was absolutely right; Amber was looking every day more and more like a cadaver, her body withering away as curves shrank, muscles deflated from lack of use, and the luster of her skin and hair had dulled, visibly draining her of life. It gripped Ironwood's heart to see that young girl he once met as the future member of the Inquisition, so lively and hopeful, now reduced to a near-dead husk.

But he couldn't bring himself to pull the plug. Not now, with what was at stake... and more than likely, he could never do it.

"Any word from Cain," Sugodai deflected. "I haven't heard from him since Wednesday, I wanted to get a few rounds at the target range anyhow. Take my mind off of this for a little bit so I can... come back with a clear mind."

Ironwood looked up from his thousand-yard stare into the table. "Said he needed to prepare something, wanted it for an excursion outside the walls for something."

Sugodai's hazy blue eyes watched him closely, like a hawk watches its prey.

Glynda grimaced again as she leaned forwards onto the table. "Vulkan and Gabriel?"

"They were going into the city," Pythol replied quickly, as if he was preparing for that exact question. "Said something about errands for... the after-party from the kids' first mission."

Again, worry settled over the group.

Ironwood felt his secondary Scroll buzz at his hip, one long tone echoed over the entire group.

All four looked up from where they were.

"A City Alert," Glynda said, a tiny ounce of dread in her voice.

Ironwood nodded as he reached up and pulled it free, punching in his password. As the operating system awakened, he was immediately beset with the sight of a City of Vale Public Alert; the red border classified it as a Safety Warning.

The message it posted gripped Ironwood's heart in terror.

 **[GRIMM IN CITY, EVACUATING RESIDENTIAL AND COMMERCIAL DISTRICTS, PLEASE BE ADVISED]**

"Oh no," Glynda let out worriedly.

Pythol and Sugodai both stood up and nodded. "I'll get my bike," said Sugodai as he pulled a massive, boxy revolver from his side.

"I'll grab my kit," Pythol replied as he pulled his exact same pistol, though unlike the white frame of Sugodai's, Pythol's was black and gold. "Inform the rest of the group, we're on the hunt."

Ironwood stood up beside them, stowing away the fact that they seemed to be mentally prepared for this to happen. "I'll warm up the Knights and scramble my troops." He turned and reactivated his mic for the meeting, the sounds of Ms. Cordova and Ms. Schnee ringing out in argument. "Ladies," replied Ironwood, letting his general's voice assume dominion over his throat. "I'm afraid there appears to be a Grimm incursion in progress in Vale. I'll have to call you back later." With that, he cut the line short and activated the local comms to Lieutenant Marbelia. "Lieutenant, do we know how much we're dealing with?"

" _Unconfirmed counts, sir, but we have sightings of King Taijitu, Beowolves, Ursa and Creeps!"_

"Anything else?"

" _Raptor sightings in the Commercial District, headed towards Beacon."_

Ironwood's stomach clenched. "Raptors!?"

" _Three packs, sir, moving fast through the streets. Ten casualties already reported, and climbing."_

"Evacuate all civilians in the Residential District," he barked as he ran down the emerald green hallway of the Vault. "Send out Paladins and get Atlesian Huntsmen out there now!"

" _Understood sir... wait... the Raptors,"_ Maribelia began, _"they've stopped. Something's spooked them."_

Ironwood blanched. "What? Raptors don't get spooked," he returned.

" _General,"_ she said without acknowledging his question, " _We have confirmation of Huntsmen on the ground! Logan and Anders have engaged!"_

The dread that was beginning to fill James suddenly dropped off. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. "Converge troops on them," he began, "Follow up behind them and provide fire support. Raise Gabriel and Vulkan and see if—"

A sharp static sound interrupted them as another signal butted in. Ironwood winced as his Lieutenant audibly groaned at the sound. " _What on Remnant was that?"_

" _Apologies, James,"_ came a familiar female voice. _"We thought we would get in contact with you directly."_

Ironwood stopped in his tracks. "Pandora?"

" _It's been a long time since we last talked,"_ she said with a grunt. The unholy screech on her end heralded the death of a Raptor. " _Sorry we're late, our ship was delayed."_

"You couldn't have picked a better time, to get here," Ironwood said as he began to run again, entering into the elevator. "Is he with you?"

The answer came as a bemused, masculine chuckle followed by the shriek of a dying Raptor.

" _As if you had to ask."_

* * *

The first thing that came back to him was the sensation of pain. Specifically, a pain in his head. It wasn't a sharp, icepick stab like he was used to in his episodic migraines, but it was the dull kind found in the metaphorical aftershocks of a migraine. It throbbed horribly in his skull, beating against his brow with the force of a fist trying to break free of his skull. He reached up, cradling his brow as he hissed in pain. He could see light—or at least he could see it through his squeezed eyelids. There was a dull roar to the world around him, faint sounds like air raid sirens drowned out by his own heartbeat and the muffled sounds of his own mind.

He reached out with his hand—rocks, no, concrete jagged and falling apart, as if pulled out from the earth. Metal and plastics. He reached out and gripped it.

His mind recognized Cadia, the grip familiar to his hand.

His mind slowly began to piece things together. _The pain... the light... Cadia... the tunnels._

A tiny girl with bright pink and brown hair _. Neo..._

 _A red Chaos Marine. Gorechild._

 _Khârn the Betrayer._

Jacob's eyes shot open as his memory came screaming back to him. The train!

Sunlight scorched his eyes. He groaned angrily as he squinted his eyes shut again. He started registering pain across the rest of his body, dull aches just like his head but far fainter; he must have hit his head in the crash and passed out, his Aura saving him from having a scrambled egg for a brain and a metric ton of broken bones as he tumbled around in the debris. He pulled himself upright, his back screaming back at him to stay down with dulled pain. Slowly, his eyes began to open.

Chaos met him.

Dust was finally settling around the concrete crater he was sitting in. Broken heaps of concrete sat on the ground beside him, a sign of the train's destructive force as it collided with the earth and flew upwards. From a massive hole in the center Grimm were pouring out in droves, Beowolves, Creeps, a few Boarbatusks were rolling out into the street, and even a few Ursa as well. Overhead, he spotted a giant Nevermore, screeching as it lashed out with a hailstorm of its giant, sharpened feathers. He heard a car screech before there was an awful crashing sound.

His head swiveled around to see where he had landed. Sure enough, he spotted the shattered remains of the engine, a bloom of blackened metal and steel bent into shapes that could never be undone fully. He saw a white coat and ginger hair with a bowler hat attached to it doubled over a slab of concrete; Roman wasn't moving, either unconscious from the impact or from some other force. If he remembered the show right, hadn't Blake kicked him in the side of the head?

His eyes went wide again. "Blake... guys!"

Panic gripped his heart as he realized he couldn't see any of them from where he was. With a groan as his body screamed in rebellion, he lifted himself onto his feet, eyes scouring the area for anything. Stars briefly sparked to life in his vision as he stood up, forcing him to clutch his head in worry that he would pass out. Too much was going on as his eyes regained their sight, the Grimm pouring out of the crater in waves, thundering into the city with a screaming anger.

He turned around and spotted Cadia near his feet. He reached down and picked it up, wiping the dust off the blade. Surprisingly, only a handful of scuffs were visible on the casing and teeth, and the gold was dinged and splattered with blood from...

From all those Chaos Cultists.

His stomach, still wheeling from his dizzy spell, threatened to rebel again, though he was sure it would be only a dry heave at this point. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, letting the nausea ebb and flow for a second before it rolled away on the sounds of battle. He shook his head and opened them again, flicking Cadia back into its pistol form. He turned back towards the concrete wreckage, looking for any signs of... anybody, really. A shimmer of hair or weapons, cloth, something or another to tell him were someone was—

A flash of ginger hair and a silver, rounded cylinder, hidden in rubble. Jacob's heart leapt in terror. "Nora!"

He scrambled to her, stumbling over debris before he stopped right in front of her. There was three or four feet of concrete on top of her, her motionless body making his stomach curl and twist in terror. "Nora," he said, "talk to me! Nora!? Nora!"

Something stirred beside her. Raven hair gave way to Ren's face. He looked stunned and dazed, his head listing a bit as he stared up at Jacob. "Jacob," he said quietly, in a rasp.

"Jesus," Jacob hissed, "hang on, let me get you guys out of there!" He stepped forwards and began to shove at the concrete at the top, hoping to work his way down towards them. It took pushing with his whole body just to force the first piece off, a slab only a quarter his size sliding off behind them. He backed away, stars beginning to appear in his vision again. "Hang on," he said breathily, "I've got it going." He grimaced as he realized that he would take forever to get it off, and the Grimm were still pouring out behind him. If he didn't get them out...

He imagined the flame sparking and roaring to life inside of him. The aches and tire in his bones seemed to fade away a smidge, though it still permeated his body. His Aura wasn't even remotely recharged at this point, and he doubted that he could be strong enough to make it move.

 _Doesn't mean I'm not gonna try_ , he thought desperately as he tried again, managing to shove a few more pieces aside with a few angry grunts. Below, he heard Ren cough, a painful, wet sound that only made his panic worse. "Hang on... just hang on, guys!"

 **"** _ **EEEEN-AAIII!"**_

Jacob's heart stopped as an ear-piercing scream filled the air. It was a sound he recognized from a hundred times of watching the same movie over and over again as a child, a sound formed from the mixing of a walrus' roars and the screams of a dolphin. The blood in his face fled, his grip white-knuckle. He turned around slowly as he realized what it was.

Standing over a rock was a Grimm out of his wildest dreams. He knew full well it stood six feet tall and around fifteen feet long, most of that length made up by its long tail. Its head was like a wedge, a line of white, sharpened quills starting at the eye ridge, following back along the center of its head and down the length of its back. Pale white, bony ribs followed the quills back, giving it a skeletal appearance. Long, lanky arms ended with pronated hands with three long, curved claws on each. Its legs were muscular and long too, ending in three short toes, with the inside toes hooking up in a giant, gleaming-white sickle claw on its foot.

" _And he slashes at you with this,"_ Sam Neill remarked in his mind. _"A six-inch retractable claw, like a razor, on the middle toe..."_

How appropriate since Jacob was staring at a Grimm version of _Jurassic Park's_ Velociraptor; how appropriate it be called simply a 'Raptor'.

It sprung at him, letting out a belting roar as it began to bear down on top of him. He managed to roll out of the way as the creature came down on the rocks, pushing a few more off with the force of its impact. Jacob reached into his pocket, seeking Titan's grip... only to feel empty air.

His heart clenched. He must have dropped Titan in the crash.

A squealing roar came from the Raptor's mouth as it wheeled and struck him with its tail. There was a feeling of the wind being sucked out of his chest as he flew aside, slamming into a concrete wall. The last vestiges of his Aura sputtered and flickered around him, saving him from a broken back. He groaned as he stood up, adrenaline overpowering his pain as the Raptor charged again, leaping up onto a rock and coming down on him with that same scream as the first time. Jacob yanked Cadia loose and fired just as it came down on top of him, the beast screaming in pain as the bullet connected with its stomach. Regardless, the Raptor landed on him, forcing him to the ground with a grunt as Cadia tumbled out of his hand. His vision swam as he stared into burning red eyes, eternally hungry and tinted with a glow of intelligence that sent a chill up his spine. He struggled under its feet as it stared him down, its weight greater than his strength much to his horror. It raised its head in the air, letting out a caw of triumph before it swung its head back down and trumpeted in his face, its hot, sticky breath reeking of death.

Their eyes made contact again. Some horrified part of Jacob thought for a moment that this was where is bus stopped, that he would die getting eaten by a demon version of a Velociraptor, and that Nora and Ren would be next.

It raised its head as its sickle claw dug into his stomach, his Aura shielding him from a grisly fate. He brought his arms up instinctively to shield his face from the rows of shark teeth in its mouth.

There was a retort of a shotgun blast, and the Raptor's head snapped aside violently, the creature letting out a startled screech. Another shot made its mark as it recoiled again, stumbling off of him. He rolled away and grabbed Cadia, snapping off a shot as he rose. The shot made its mark, a bloom of light impacted with its head, the Raptor stumbling and listing to one side. With a gurgled screech, it fell over and fell still, its claws still twitching with desperate fervor. A few seconds later, its body began to dissipate into black smoke.

Jacob rose to a shaky knee, his heart thundering in his chest. He heard footsteps behind him and turned around, his hand shaking and Cadia rattling in his hands.

"Jacob!"

He was met with a mass of gold and black pulling him into a vice-like hug that squeezed the air from his lungs and hurt his back. "Jesus H. Fuck," he wheezed, "Yang, Blake, I can't breathe!"

"Oh my God," Yang cried out, a sniffle amidst that. "We thought you'd gotten caught in the rubble!"

"Yeah," he said breathily, adrenaline still pumping. "I'm alive... somehow. But the same won't be said for them if we don't get them out!"

Blake looked at him before turning around. "Oh gods! Ren, Nora!" She ran over and took a knee, reaching out for their hands. "Talk to us, please."

Ren groaned. "Nora's been out for a bit now," he said with a hint of panic to his whispy, weakened voice. "I haven't been able to wake her!"

Another voice rose over the din of chaos. "Ren! Nora! Where are you guys!?"

Jacob turned at the only other male voice in their group. He couldn't see him, but at least he could hear them. "Jaune," Jacob roared, his throat feeling like sandpaper, "We're over here!"

Pyrrha's voice piped up next. "Jacob!? Where are you!?"

"Follow my voice," he replied as he stepped over to the rubble and began to shove. "Yang, got some muscle to spare?"

Yang nodded as the trio began to shove the concrete loose. With three of them now, removing rock and letting out as much sound as they did, it was no coincidence that Jaune and Pyrrha arrived just as the trio had shoved the last slab of concrete they could free of its spot. With enough space now to pull them out, Jacob reached in and grabbed the unconscious Nora while Yang and Blake pulled Ren out. Unfortunately, for what progress he had made, Jacob was not at a strength to even pull a tiny girl like Nora out; she felt heavier than she had any right to be, and he was cursing himself with every derogatory term he could come up with in his head as he futilely pulled. "Fuck am I a weakling," he said to himself.

"Hang on," he heard Pyrrha said as she dropped to her knees and reached in with him. "We'll pull together, okay?"

He nodded in reply. Behind them, there was a distant, bloodcurdling scream as the battle roiled on around them.

She returned the nod. "One... two... three!"

The two of them groaned in unison as they pulled by Nora's hand and by the base of her arms, hoping to get more leverage. They heard something move from the remaining rocks. Nora pulled forwards just a hair.

"She's stuck under some of the concrete," Jacob growled as he pulled, pushing back into the ground as a counter to his lack of arm strength. "We've got her to budge! Pull!"

They pulled again, and the stone budged again. Jacob saw out of the corner of his eye that Jaune had grabbed hold too on Pyrrha's side, and Yang had circled around.

She threw a punch, the concrete shattering.

Like a baby tooth free of its root, Nora popped out in their arms, wearing a pain-twisted look on her face.

"We got her," Jacob said, only noting too late how he shouldn't have been so quick to be relieved. A solid curtain of red was on her brow, right between her actual brow and her temple. Jacob hissed as her eyes opened, a visible haze to her vision. "Fuck," he said aloud, "She's definitely concussed."

She smiled dazedly at him with a tiny thing of a smile. "Hey, big guy... what a ride, eh?"

Ren, still leaning on Blake as Jacob and Pyrrha hoisted Nora onto a rock, looked up in mild panic. "She needs to get out of here-" he rasped before a cough broke through. Jacob winced as he noticed how little Ren's voice sounded normal right now, barely above a rattled rasp.

"With all those Grimm out there, we'd never make it," replied Jaune with worry in his tone.

"Ruby and Weiss have them on lockdown," Yang replied as the signature retort of Crescent Rose's sniper form heralded the scream off of a dying Taijitu.

"That means little if the Grimm catch their second wind," Jacob replied.

He felt a hand grip tightly on his shoulder. He turned and was met with Nora's ice-blue eyes, still hazy but coherent enough that she seemed to know what has happening around her. "I... I'm not out just yet," she said as she began to stand, using his shoulder as leverage. "Just... just let me get my Aura running again." With a deep sigh and a physical shock of electricity—one that Jacob felt in his teeth—a pink glow enwrapped her. With a hard blink, the dullness left her eyes to some degree. Still, she flashed a determined, cocky grin that Jacob had come to expect from Nora.

Crescent Rose roared again over the din of the air raid sirens—or were they rather Grimm raid sirens—as an Ursa replied in earnest.

Blake turned and jogged over to the edge of the rubble. "They're still coming," she said dejectedly. "There's just... no end to them."

Jacob felt the wind fall out of their collective sails. Even Pyrrha and Jaune, looking tired but still quite untouched, were looking a bit downtrodden. A part of him wanted to get them out of harm's way, let Atlas clean up this mess and get back to the safety of Beacon with both teams.

He heard a woman scream in the distance, only for the scream to be abruptly cut and followed by a Beowolf howling triumphantly.

"Then we fight them until reinforcements can seal the crater," he said as he turned and looked each of them in the eye. "We don't stop until either they are stopped or we..."

The sentence died in his throat as he realized what he had almost said, his eyes now on Pyrrha as she looked at him with determined eyes of worry and confidence alike.

"Or we have to retreat," he finished, correcting himself. "I'm not losing anyone today."

All of them nodded, Nora included. Jaune stepped forwards, offering him a still-smoking Titan. "Here," he said quietly, "I found it by the engine. Got a few shots off with it."

Jacob smirked. As he took the gun back. "Here I thought you were the kind for the sword and board." He let the magazine loose; three shots had been fired. Two magazines left in his pocket, a grand total of seventeen shots left.

"Let's make it count," he said as he walked up to the ridge and transformed Cadia. He leveled both and opened fire with Titan, catching a Creep in the head and dropping it to the earth. Another shout landed wide of a Beowolf, only for a third one to tear open its throat. Cadia swung opposite and fired, slamming into an Ursa's eye and pissing it off. A second shot went down it's roaring gullet, strangling the roar in its throat before the creature doubled over.

On his left, he sa a flash of gold hair and the retorts of Ember Celica as it lit a Beowolf up with a long-range shot. His right was met with Pyrrha's flowing red hair and the roars of Milo's rifle form, followed by the clunking and subsequent explosions of Magnhild.

Soon, all of them sans Jaune were firing into the crater, dropping as many Grimm as they could before they ran out of ammo. Jacob grinned as their firing line continued to mow Grimm down in droves, the ones escaping getting caught out by a red and black blur and Weiss' glyphs throwing them about like ragdolls.

But still they came.

"No mercy," he roared aloud, his throat feeling as though it were being ripped apart by his warcry, "no respite!"

* * *

" _You don't think..."_

" _Sure looks like it."_

" _That's still weeks away!"_

" _What do we do now, Cinder?"_

" _..."_

" _Cinder?"_

" _... All the Huntsmen at the school will be out fighting in the city; now might be out only chance at the Tower. We let it play out and work from there."_

" _What!? And if Roman gets caught—"_

" _He won't tell a soul. I guarantee it. But we have to act fast. Get Eliphas on the line and tell him to meet us at the docks."_

…

" **This is brazen, even for you, Cinder. And your disguise couldn't fool a newborn."**

Cinder rolled her eyes as she ducked out from behind the wall. "And _you_ stick out like a dragon in a field of daises."

Eliphas growled annoyedly. **"Why do we sneak like this when even now I could more than likely beat Ozpin and the rest of his merry band in single combat? There is nothing to be gained from this incognito pomp and circumstance."**

"My dear Eliphas," she said as she ducked back, watching the last few students thunder out of the building towards the city, "It's because if we get too brazen, they may just find a way to catch us." She peaked out again, checking all directions as she did so. "We're clear. Let's go."

She snuck forwards in her obsidian heels, the dampening effect on this design making them surprisingly good at masking her footfalls. Eliphas, however, was a stomping nightmare behind her, less subtle than a freight train barreling down the tracks at top speed. She rolled her eyes as they closed in on the dormitories, Cinder lowering to a crouch as she brought her back against the wall. She peaked around, unsure of whether this building had been cleared too.

" **I am all for caution and planning,"** Eliphas replied, **"But this is superfluous, even by Chaos' standards."**

A few seconds passed before she felt that the coast was clear. With a nod, they made their move. The Tower's entry was in sight, just another building to go and they were in.

Cinder smirked. _Destiny still smiles brightly on me._

She didn't even bother sticking to cover as she noticed the grunt-level Atlas soldiers protecting the Tower's doors. Whether it was with their stupidly-bulky helmets or that they were ridiculously-unobservant, they never noticed her or Eliphas, even as they left the late morning shade of the building and went to a crouch right ahead of the planters out in front of the tower.

" **Our objective is in sight,"** Eliphas commented with a low growl. **"We should strike now rather than wait and be caught."**

"I agree," she whispered. "Do you want them or the ones that are no doubt inside?"

" **I'll take the ones inside,"** he said, hefting his Meltagun.

Cinder nodded as she reached out with the Maiden's powers. It bit angrily at her heart, but her mentor's talon again mentally calmed the blaze. A second later, a bow of pure obsidian was in her hands, smooth and hot to the touch. She smiled as she manifested an arrow and notched it.

She breathed in deeply, letting her beating heart slow to a crawl. The first shots had to be precise. She summoned a second one and notched it beside the first.

Three. Inhale.

Two. Exhale.

One. Inhale.

She sprung up a good seven feet in the air and turned her bow sideways as she did so. Without a word, she fired her arrows, her breath held until she saw the arrows off the nock.

She smiled proudly as the arrows made impact with their chests and pierced through. They hadn't even gotten the chance to say anything, their voices now strangled gasps, their guns clattering to the floor from shock-riddled hands. She landed like a cat in front of them, holding them up as the arrows did their work. The two guards fell to their knees, only for their bodies to begin to glow, the heat from her obsidian arrows igniting their chests in a warm glow. She caught their brows as they fell forwards, channeling her powers into a quick surge of heat.

She let out a content sigh as there was a flash of orange and the sensation of ashes flowing though her hands. "Two down," she said as she walked past their disintegrating corpses, strutting cattily as she walked in.

She was met with the sight of three more, only now noting her approach. "Hold up, Ma'am," said the first one, a tall woman with dark skin. "The Tower is under lockdown until the Grimm are removed from the city.

Cinder smirked. _How quaint. They must not have noticed their companions perishing._

She heard Eliphas approach the doorway, his massive feet making the sound of an avalanche. The three Atlesian soldiers looked up and tensed up at the same time, worry tinging their very beings.

For a second, the sounds stopped.

Then, the doors were obscured by a body larger than any normal man's form.

Cinder checked the clock on the wall. 8:25:03

Eliphas smashed through the doors with a sound like nails on chalkboards. Cinder jumped sideways as the Word Bearer shoulder charged one into the wall, a sickening sound like bones cracking emanating from the soldier's body. He groaned audibly as Eliphas stepped back and brought out the Cursed Crozius, the orb-like mace swinging through the air like a gyroscope from hell. The second one, a smaller, squatter man, was ripped apart by the impact, a deluge of blood splashing across the walls behind him.

The one that had approached Cinder backed away and opened fire. Not a single cartridge managed to make it through his armor. "Drop dead you giant motherfu—!"

Her sentence and her life were cut short as Eliphas wheeled on the spot and pointed his meltagun point blank into her and pulled the trigger. There was a flash of light and Cinder saw armor, skin, flesh and bone vaporize from the stomach up by the blast. The legs toppled over, now bereft of the brain that commanded them. The battlefield fell silent.

Cinder saw the clock strike 8:26 out of the corner of her eye.

Cinder grimaced at the grizzly kill and the foul smell of cooked flesh and ozone that emanated through the room. "Well," she said with a disgusted tone, "that was messier than it should have been."

" **Indeed. I managed to finally procure the right mix to work as an actual meltagun for a change, though I seem to have been off on my energy output. I would have preferred to leave no bodies."**

Cinder waved it off. "Bodies are a stronger message of fear," she said as she stepped over the dead soldier's legs. "And fear is what we need to strike with." She reached into chest pocket of the one smashed into the walls and produced a keycard. The man groaned in pain, clearly not dead but still on the doorstep to the Other Side. Cinder built the fire in her body again, the Maiden's powers furiously rebelling against her as she did it. Still, she felt it yield to her begrudgingly, the man's body igniting in that same orange glow.

" **And yet you deigned to disintegrate his body."**

She turned to look him square in the eye, a malicious grin on her face. "A balance, shall we call it? Regardless," she said as she turned and activated the elevators, "We have a virus to install."

The ride up was quick but tense as she expected the doors to open on a number of Huntsmen and Huntresses on the defensive, prepared to get their first true taste of battle. At this time of day, it had to be busy as sin, she would estimate anywhere between thirty and forty students present, in various states of armament and preparedness depending on the schedules they had for that day.

Forty student Huntsmen, assorted Atlesians, civilians and staff, against The Fall Maiden and Eliphas the Inheritor.

Cinder had very little worry in her heart about their destined outcome.

The elevator chimed above them.

" **Our floor,"** he chuckled darkly. **"Let's see if anyone is home today."**

The door slid open, green dim light shimmering in their faces. Cinder had no choice but to squint as the light assaulted her eyes. _That's odd,_ she thought, _The lights are much brighter today than usual._

Her Aura screamed at her to step to the side. She obliged without a second thought.

Something silver, black, green and copper zipped past her and embedded itself in the back wall of the elevator. She turned and met Eliphas' gaze as they both looked at the offending object.

A cutlass-like sword, thin and dainty, had rent an arm-sized hole in the wall of the elevator. Without warning, though, it screamed backwards through the metal and back into the lobby of the terminal station.

"I wouldn't attempt whatever it is you're trying, Mr. Eliphas," came a bubbly but angry voice from the lobby as the light turned off; turned out that someone had set some of the lights to shine directly at the elevators. Cinder blinked harshly and was able to see a girl that was about a half-foot shorter than her, ginger as they came, garbed in a frilly dress, black stockings and pumps and a bright pink bow on her head.

Her Aura prickled warningly. In the back of her mind, she felt the tiniest hint of apprehension. She was lucky to be here with the more understanding Eliphas rather than... some of his other colleagues.

"And as for you, Ms. Maiden," she said, setting the hairs on Cinder's neck up like a cat's back, "I would like to ask you to surrender yourself so that we may take those powers back."

Cinder snarled angrily. "Not on your life, little girl." She summoned her bow, her worry giving the Maiden powers an opening as the bow came out different from her usual design, and subsequently not as balanced to her as she would have preferred. Too much weight in the center, her shots risked being off her mark every time she fired.

" **Spirited little one, aren't you,"** crooned Eiphas as she heard his meltagun whine to life. **"Tell me, before we kill you and anyone else here so that we might do what we came here for... tell me what your name is, so that I may carve it into my grimoire back at my sanctuary."**

The girl said nothing, only giving off a glower that looked more cute than menacing. "You will not be killing anyone else here," she said as she pointed to the receptionist's desk, one of the screens flashing the carnage downstairs.

Cinder's attention snapped back to the girl as she heard the whine of motors. Without warning, five more blades just like the one that had put that hole in the elevator sprung out from behind her seemingly out of nowhere. They spun in the air in a tight and precise wheel as she drew out her arm and flourished it up into the air, the blades coming down in a corkscrew and spinning before surrounding her like many heads from a hydra's body. She was poised to spring either back or forwards, one shoulder out and another back as she glowered at them.

"Because I am combat ready."

Even as she smirked through her snarl, Cinder felt a chill up her spine. She couldn't tell if it was excitement or fear.

That alone scared her.

The two lunged forwards.

* * *

 _This is definitely not how I expected this mission to go..._

She felt the wind bristle against her as the Beowolf's teeth snapped, inches away from taking her nose off. She grimaced in exertion and pain, its paws pushing against her but finding no purchase. She let out a grunting cry of force as she pushed it farther and farther back, but the beast refused to give up. She had stabbed how many times now? Three, four, five times now, and yet the thing still wouldn't go down.

There was the sound of a pistol firing, and the Beowolf's head snapped aside, the creature letting out a surprised yelp. Pyrrha didn't waste her chance, pushing back with all her might into the creature with one spring forwards.

Relief filled her as she sent the beast to the ground and spun over it, slashing at it as she passed. She twisted and rolled into a kneel, catching herself as the creature stood back up, clutching its chest. She didn't hesitate as she shot forwards, swinging wide with a fast, horizontal slice for its throat.

Pyrrha felt Miló connect with the Beowolf's throat, its arms going limp as the beast collapsed and dissolved into smoke. With a spin on her heels, she smacked another one in the chest, stumbling it before she slashed it across the face with the blade and bashed it across the face with Akoúo̱. It became smoke before it even had begun teetering over.

Without a second to hesitate, Pyrrha spotted incoming Creeps, ten of them at first glance. No, it was twenty, and closing in on her; 60 feet out and closing fast. She grimaced as she reached out with her Semblance into her weapons. Not a second later, she crouched low and used the momentum to jump into a spin, her shield flying through the air like a lethal discus. She transformed Miló into its spear form and began to spin it up over her, letting them come to her as she gathered enough speed with her Semblance to actively create a flow of air right over her as a side effect. Even then, her shield had sliced through several, her other hand guiding it as it flew through the air like a bronze-gold flying saucer.

Eight made it into striking range, lunging up and into the air at her.

She swung wide with her other arm, letting out a shout of both pain and effort as she held onto the spear for dear life, letting its momentum flow free.

In a wheel of bronze and red, the eight Creeps were decapitated by the blow, their bodies falling to the floor lifelessly as she let Miló's momentum shift her over a few feet. The bodies collided and disappeared in a massive puff of smoke.

For a second, Pyrrha felt on the racing of her heart.

Then the slow burn kicked in again.

She groaned as she took a knee, Akoúo̱ returning to her bracer with a _clunk_ as she raised her arm in time to catch it. She leaned up against Miló, letting her body take a second to relieve the pain in her body. She had been fighting for... gods, she didn't even know how long now, all of it both a crawl and a blur as pain and exhaustion and concern flooded her body.

 _Okay, okay,_ she thought to herself, _Ren and Nora... center courtyard a few minutes ago, right? Right, King Tajitu... Weiss, crowd control... Yang, taking care of the big guys... Blake... Where's Blake?_

There was a very animal screech behind her, followed quite quickly by the sound of a gun going off. The screech fell silent, followed by the sound of a Grimm disintegrating.

"Pyrrha!"

She looked up as she recognized Jacob's voice, the sound of footsteps on concrete. She was met with the sight of him approaching, His rounded face flush with exhaustion and a tired limp to his gait.

"Jacob," she gasped tiredly, trying to pull herself back onto her feet. She hissed and winced as her knee protested, bringing her back to the ground.

"Fuck, are you alright," he said, sliding to a knee beside her. "Are you hurt!?"

"No, no," she said, "I'm fine... I just... I'm just tired..."

Jacob nodded. "I can understand that," he said quietly. He reached out a hand to her, beckoning her to stand back up. She took it in earnest, only stopping as her knee hated her again. He changed his stance, bringing her up onto his shoulder as a crutch, a very fortunate thing since she was still seven inches taller than he was.

There was another scream of terror in the distance. Pyrrha's heart clenched.

"...Fuck," Jacob hissed. "Where's our fucking support..."

Pyrrha didn't respond, her mind starting to wander as the sounds of battle continued to rage behind her. "How... how long have we been... fighting," she asked through tired pants.

Jacob grimaced as he glanced down at his watch, still unbroken by some freak miracle. "It's 9:10 in the morning," he said. "Six hours now—no, wait, four... five? Jesus H. Fuck, this is going on too long."

Another screech filled the air. Raptors.

"We've lingered too long," she said. "We need to meet up with the others."

"Agreed," he said. "Let's get a move-along."

A few minutes of silence passed between them as they hurriedly made their way back to the town square that they had entered the city through. Pyrrha felt her heart sink lower and lower as the two of them passed several damaged buildings and outright flattened cars, the distinct patterns of various Grimm attacks mingling into a nightmarish image of carnage and destruction. Debris littered the road, smoke curling up into the late morning sky, tinging it with black and oranges from formed and growing fires. The air was thick with screams of terror in the distance, peppered by more roars and impossible screeching and the odd sound of gunfire.

Pyrrha hoped that the lack of bodies meant a good thing.

Eventually, her leg began to feel less in pain. "Jacob," she said, "I think I'm good for now."

"I don't want to take risks," he replied, his eyes laser focused on some distant point far ahead of him. We should probably find Jaune, Nora and Ren and get you guys to safety."

Pyrrha grimaced. "I'm fine," she replied. "My leg is not hurting anymore."

"Regardless," he said back to her, "I don't want to take chances."

Pyrrha pulled away a bit, trying to get loose of his grip. "Jacob," she said a little more firmly, "I'm _fine._ I can still fight."

They stopped in the middle of the road. Pyrrha could now feel Jacob's thundering heartbeat in his hands as they held her arm in place on his shoulders.

Pyrrha watched him, his eyes darting about tiredly in thought. Some part of her mind began to wonder just what made him so jumpy.

Jacob sighed as he relinquished his hold on her arm. "Right... sorry."

She didn't pull away fully, only resting her hand on his closer shoulder. "We're going to make it through this," she said. "We're all going to make it through this."

Their speed picked up as they rounded the corner and were met with the sight of Team RWBY fighting a massive horde of Beowolves in the ruined square. Ruby herself was a whirling dervish of black, red and silver, sending the Grimm flying every which way. The inferno of gold and red in the distance was the telltale sign of Yang, the distinct sounds of Ember Celica roaring in the distance. A comet of yellow streaked into the air with a scream of anger, caving a giant Nevermore's head as she made impact with it and continued onwards. Storms of sharpened hail from Weiss' Glyphs were eviscerating Grim by the dozens, shredding them with the force of a hurricane. And on the rooftops above the street, a blur of black and steel and ribbon turned flying Grimm into ribbons of their own as Blake sliced and diced them into pieces.

"Well," Jacob said, "at least they're holding most of the line."

Pyrrha grimaced as she saw a pack of Beowolves escape from the crater and thunder past the fighting. They were headed south, towards the Industrial District, where there was no doubt a dirth of police and huntsmen to protect the civilians there. "It's still not enough..."

Her sentence was cut short as a thunderous, mechanical roar sounded overhead, drowning out her thoughts. A bulbous silhouette passed over them for a second, casting a long shadow over them as they stood in the center of the street. It was a Bullhead, and a Valean one at that by the insignia of the Kingdom painted in white on its side.

Four figures jumped from the Bullhead, all four of some various shape and size. Pyrrha felt some degree of relief as she saw Team CFVY land not thirty feet from them, weapons drawn—sans Velvet, strangely—and bristly.

"Coco," Jacob called out, "good to see you!"

Coco turned, wearing a look that seemed halfway between tense and glad. "Hey, Short-Stack," she called out, priming her purse-minigun as several Grimm spotted them. "I take it you know what's going on!?"

Velvet stepped back, worry tinging her features. "How did they get inside the city!?"

Jacob sighed as he drew Cadia. "Long story short, Torchwick grabbed a train in Mountain Glenn, loaded all the Dust he stole from around the city, set bombs on all the cars and... well..."

Coco turned and fired as a Beowolf lunged at them, her minigun roaring to life and shredding the beast asunder. It hit her and disintegrated into a puff of smoke, not even stumbling her as she turned back around and pushed her sunglasses back up. "Sounds like we need to plug that hole, then," she said. "Or are their multiple?"

Pyrrha mentally drew a map from where they were now to where they had begun. "There might be more, farther inside the city," she guessed as she drew her weapons, now dinged with dust and dirt from all of the fighting she had done today.

"The Academy's been scrambled to fight them off," Yatsu said as his head was on a swivel, "And the cops have mobilized too."

"Atlas," Jacob asked.

Fox shook his head.

"Nothing yet," Coco said as she fired another barrage, dropping a dozen Creeps. "Their dropships are mobilizing, but they're elsewhere."

"Then we're on our own for now," Jacob said as he snapped off a shot and caught an Ursa in the eye. The beast roared in pain as it stumbled forwards, looking to find purchase in them.

Pyrrha spun Miló in her hand as she triggered the metamorphosis, counting the clicks that she heard and felt as it expanded into its spear form. One click, two clicks, three clicks, four clicks, good to go. She hoisted the spear and pulled the trigger, using the energy of the Dust cartridge inside to catapult her spear forwards. It soared like a red and bronze bird, lodging itself deep in the Ursa's head at 20 paces out from them, the beast losing its footing and slamming into the ground with a colossal thud. Its momentum never stopped though, the body sliding forwards right back to her feet before the corpse stopped mere feet in front of her. With an effortless yank, Pyrrha pulled Miló from the disintegrating corpse, pulling Akoúo forwards to block any attacks that would be followed up. After a second, she turned aroud and looked back at them.

Team CFVY was watching her with bemused looks. Jacob's face was a look of determination and worry mixed with some degree of bemusement of his own.

 _Why does he seem so bothered,_ she thought to herself. _We're taking hits, but we're beating them back!_

Pyrrha blinked as she heard the screeches of Raptors. She turned in time to see the crater surge with a sea of black and white; Raptors, dozens of them, fast as lightning and looking starved for battle.

"Jesus Fuck," Jacob cried out as she heard the clicks of his guns being racked, "Look at them all!"

There was an angry hum as Coco stepped up beside Pyrrha. "You need to find your team," she said. "We can handle this."

There was a cry that reached Pyrrha's ears as an Ursa in the distance toppled back, its head missing from its shoulders. Her hear soared as she saw Jaune, looking tired by his posture but otherwise alright, jogging around the body with his sword and shield in hand. For a moment, she felt elation and joy, seeing him standing proud over the slain Grimm as it disintegrated, though the emotions were tinged with that same fluster she got anytime they were close enough these days. She couldn't deny that he seemed unusually handsome when he was looking rugged and battle-worn, the faintest puff to his chest in awakening self-pride that made her smile when she saw him embrace it, his blonde hair flowing off his brow—

About then, she noticed the Raptor charging at him. She and Jacob let out the same cry, though Jaune was across the courtyard from where they were and it was doubtful that he could hear them.

"Jaune, look out!"

Either the wind had carried their voice, the sound of battle died down at just the right moment, or Jaune had better ears than she remembered, his head turned towards them.

The Raptor lunged. Jaune began to turn, but it wasn't enough.

Pyrrha saw the beast tackle Jaune and throw him to the ground, his cry of terror and its hungry roar mingling as he disappeared out of her sight behind a planter.

Her heart froze like ice and plummeted back down into her chest as she heard a cry of pain.

"JAUNE!"

She took off like a bolt, heart hammering back to life. "Hang on! I'm coming!" She vaulted over a planter and launched off of it, getting a few feet from her leap. She saw it biting down on his sword arm, pinning it with its teeth as Jaune desperately thrashed his shield arm despite it being pinned by its foot. The Raptor's bite was strong enough she could see the white shine of his Aura around him, violently reacting as it fought back against the Grimm's maw.

"Pyrrha, stop!" She heard Jacob's cry, but she didn't have time to listen, not with Jaune in trouble.

Her trajectory began to turn earthbound. She grasped Miló strongly in her hand as she brought it up and over her head, a great cleaving blow intended to strike the creature dead with a single slice.

There was a sound like a humming lightning bolt before something struck the Raptor on its side with the force to rip it off of Jaune. The Grimm screamed as it sailed into a planter, pulled away by a streak of volcanic orange and gold that slammed it into the planter with enough force to shatter the concrete feature.

Pyrrha felt her attack falter as the creature was no longer a threat. She tucked in on herself as she transformed Miló back into its sword form, rolling onto her feet and drawing Akoúo̱ forwards as she stood between is newcomer and Jaune.

"Pyrrha," she heard him shout, "Oh, thank God! I was worried you'd been pinned down."

She blinked hard as she realized that she hadn't check on him. "Oh my gods," she said as she her guard dropped and she took a knee over him, "Jaune, are you okay!?"

He motioned for her to give him some space as he replied, "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay," though his voice was tinged with mild panic, his eyes still wild from his encounter. "Thanks for the save, Pyr."

Pyrrha blinked. "Jaune," she said, "that wasn't me. That was..." She realized that she didn't even know who to thank for saving her partner, turning to see what had struck the Raptor off of Jaune.

The first thing she noticed was its size and how buried it was in the shattered planter that it has smashed the Raptor into. It was a gargantuan, two-headed axe, its blades flat at the top and the first three-fourths of the way down before they curved in towards the hilt, giving it an Ancient Mantlean look. The second thing she noticed was the metal it was made of; it was something vaguely akin to the color of rust, but the sheen and the magma-like glow it gave off from cracks and crevices in the blades spoke otherwise; she even noticed that there were flames—actual _flames_ —sparking off of the blades, small enough that they probably would never fully ignite, but still a menacing enough addition. On its hilt were various gadgets and power nodules, glowing, hissing and humming to live near the base of its blades while a haft easily three-fourths her height, the blade itself making up the final fourth.

The final feature she noticed was the golden relief of a two-headed wolf forged in the center of the axe's face, an emerald the same color of her eyes glowing ferociously back at her.

 _Who's weapon is this..._

"Pyrrha, Jaune," she heard Jacob cry out as he shot at something behind them, the scream of a Creep answering what it was. "Are you two okay!? Did it get past your—HOLY FUCK!"

She looked up just in time to see Jacob jump like a startled cat as he stared at the axe, his eyes looking haunted as if he had seen a ghost. "Is... is that—"

There was a sound like a wolf down the street from where they were standing, anything past seventy feet away obscured by a dust cloud from a fallen building. Pyrrha braced herself for a pack of Beowolves to come thundering out of the cloud.

She saw humanoid figures as the dust began to settle. One at the front raised an arm up and a sound like a mountain-sized thunderclap erupted from the arm as a massive flash preceded it.

Pyrrha's Aura screamed at her to duck, the Mistrali champion ducking just in time to hear a massive shell—nearly a grenade by the size of the gust of wind that it left in its trail—scream past her. She heard something explode behind her, followed by the screech of a Death Stalker. Pyrrha turned just in time to see the creature topple over not thirty feet behind them, a chunk of its head the diameter of her shield missing from what remained of it. The body toppled limply to the earth, its tail disappearing in a puff of ash and smoke as its body began to fail and fall apart.

Pyrrha watched for only a second more before she turned back to the forms in the dust. The dust itself was parting, revealing the figures of Mr. He'Stan, Mr. Grimnar, Mr. Cain, and a few others she had never seen before standing at attention, all bearing various weapons and armament.

"On your feet, kids," Mr. Grimnar called out as he lowered his massive, two-barreled gun. "The battle is yet to be won!"

Vulkan stepped forwards. "Brothers," he cried out, spinning his spear as the blade itself caught fire with the distinct colors of an oil fire. "Into the fires of battle!"

The rest replied as they hefted their weapons. **"Unto the Anvil of War!"**

At that, they charged towards the crater in a multi-colored cavalcade of clothing, armor and weaponry, with Logan swinging past them to pick up his axe. "On your feet, Lad," he barked as he hefted the axe onto his shoulder with no trace of difficulty, "the ground is no place for a Huntsman!"

Pyrrha didn't pay attention, and could only watch on as the... well, the only word she could use was _army_ of Huntsmen collided with the Grimm forces, carving a swath right from the onset, as if they had practiced fighting these creatures a thousand times over. At the tip of the spear was Vulkan, ironically swinging his flaming spear left and right as a tiny stream of liquid gold flitted about him, parrying strikes and countering attacks with the grace of a falling leaf. Beside him was Cain, his chainsword tearing effortlessly through the Grimm as they came at him piecemeal. She heard the roar of a engine being gunned as a scar of white and red zoomed into the fray, carrying an East Mistrali man of notably sharp features into battle with a scimitar worthy of high fantasy novels.

"Holy fuck," she heard Jacob say as she saw him walk just into her line of sight.

She felt a massive hand on her shoulder as Logan grabbed her shoulder. "Don't tell me you of all people don't want to get in the middle of this fight?"

She shook her head as she glanced up at him, catching a look at the massive axe in his hands. She felt a rush of adrenaline in her veins as she brought Miló and Akoúo̱ to bear, the red and gold spear glinting angrily in the late morning sun. "Never, Professor," she said determinedly as she saw Jaune out of the other corner of her vision stand up, brandishing his shield and sword.

Mr. Grimnar's toothy grin flashed his wolf fangs jovially. "That's what I like to hear," be barked as he spun the axe over his shoulder without an ounce of difficulty. "For Russ and the Allfather!"

Pyrrha smiled as he cried out his warcry. "For the Wolf and the Father," she returned.

Jacob looked at the two of them for a brief moment with a look that seemed surprised, only for a Dust cartridge to zip past his head. With a shake of his head and a tired grunt, he drew Cadia and Titan again, spinning the roaring blade to life in his hand. "Last one to fifty kills buys drinks for everyone later," he said as he snapped off a shot into the Grimm hordes.

The four of them charged forwards, Pyrrha scaling up and over a planter again as she looked to come down on the head of the nearest Ursa to them.

 _Definitely not how I saw this mission going_ , she thought with a battle-induced snarl on her face.

* * *

Penny crouched low against the broken terminal as the particle-wave weapon blasted a cone of heat over her head. She felt the blistering spike in temperature, her internal monitors silently screaming that those temperatures were even too much for her to handle.

Penny honestly didn't care at the moment considering she had more immediate threats than that.

Her artificial Aura alerted her to an incoming threat overhead, something intending to impact her head. She ducked left as the massive spiked mace of the giant Space Marine slammed down onto the terminal, crushing the machine in a shower of parts and wiring. Penny backflipped away as her training and tactical procedures denoted a Backswing Strike; She drew back three of her blades and swung back through her backflip, the blades skimming the floor and careening towards where she approximated his chin to be. She observed the blades close in on his chest, only for him to pull his mace with blinding speed between his chin and her blade, riposting them with ease.

Penny grimaced as she landed on her feet twenty feet away, bringing her blades into a pirouette as she blocked another swing from him. Her processing power became exclusively focused on blocking and riposting back, drawing another three blades as she became a whirling dervish, blades and maul swerving and dancing in a dangerous game of skill as the two fighters battled.

She turned her head just for a moment as she spotted Cinder Fall in front of a terminal, typing away furiously as another Atlesian soldier lay dead beside her. Penny's mind recognized the soldier, Petty Officer Russo Tetania; his arm was missing from his torso, torn away by the maul along with his rifle, leaving him to die there... alone and in terror.

Penny felt a pang of guilt and fear in her mechanical heart as she realized just how little it had hit her when it had happened, not even four minutes ago.

Her defenses faltered for a second, letting Eliphas bring his giant gun up to try to blast her. She stepped sideways as he fired, the blast of heated air slamming into the wall and melting a near-perfect circle in it as the slag dissolved or tumbled to the earth below.

Penny felt a spark of worry in her circuitry as she lashed out from the spin, catching his gun across the barrel and sending it flying. Eliphas didn't even seem to react to it as he swung around and attacked back with a great, cleaving blow. Penny had only a second to block with three of her blades in a makeshift shield, the jagged spikes poking through the open spots in her makeshift barrier. Their weapons locked together, forcing them into a shoving match as both tried to overpower the other.

 _This fight has gone on too long,_ she deduced mentally. _I need to stop Ms. Fall before that virus is installed... but how?_

Penny made very little effort to counter Eliphas' attack, finding that while he was large and his strength higher than normal humans, he was surprisingly weaker physically than she was, even in such advanced, augmenting armor. Her x-ray scanners had identified gear and mechanics well beyond the capacity of even Atlas, yet she was able to keep her ground against it to some degree. Still, his ten millennia of combat experience was winning the day, blocking every swing and riposting in kind.

 _If I had Father's bio-scan upgrades I could see what is his physical condition,_ she mused in her circuited mind as she swung out with another two of her blades and caught him across one of his massive pauldrons. Eliphas growled as he jumped back, drawing his gun with lightning reflexes.

Penny didn't have enough time to dodge the attack. She grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut as she prepared to take the hit, crossing her arms in front of her.

Thermal sensors screamed at her as she took the full blast, the force threatening to throw her backwards. She stumbled with a small scream of surprise, feeling the heat as it roared over her.

A little part of her processor noticed that the heat signatures reached over 1000 Fahrenheit. She was lucky to have her Aura, or she would have been reduced to slag; a small part of her mind glitched with panic at the thought. She opened her eyes, looking down at herself to see if there had been any damage. The good news was, nothing so far, even to her clothes, though she wasn't as worried since she wasn't entirely anatomical; she had always wondered why she wasn't made fully anatomical when Father had wanted her to blend in with humans.

The bad news was her Aura plummeting to just under 30%. Another hit like that and she would be reduced to a pile of slag.

Penny grimaced. This had to end now.

"We're in and loaded! Let's go!"

Penny blinked in surprise as she heard and felt a sharp whistle of wind overhead. Her gaze turned to where she had last Cinder, and was met with the sight of the Fall Maiden nocking another arrow in her bow with cautious speed. She was grimacing, a look that Penny could read as what was considered 'self-disappointment' to most. Penny was familiar with it from seeing Jacob in his sparring practices.

The obsidian arrow flew with another sharp whistle less than a second later. Penny drew a blade and smacked it out of the air as it careened on a trajectory for her lower abdomen.

"Eliphas," Cinder hissed as she backpedaled, "Time to go!"

The giant looked over. **"I heartily agree,"** he said with a nod as he smacked another due of Penny's swords away.

Penny grimaced as she realized she was too late to stop them. But wasn't about to let them get away so easily.

"No, you won't," she said as she dove past Eliphas, retracting her blades for but a brief moment only to draw them all and launch them at Cinder.

Cinder somersaulted away, Penny's swords zipping past her as she spun and twisted through the dervish Penny had sent her way. Penny saw a flash of orange and black as her Artificial Aura alerted her to an oncoming threat, heralded by another sharp whistle. She ducked aside as the obsidian arrow screamed past her, weaving past her swords' wiring and embedding into a wall. Penny continued forwards, frowning determinedly at the Fall Maiden as she shouted, "Cease hostilities immediately, Maiden!"

Cinder seemed to bristle at that, though Penny saw a small smile on her face. "I don't think so," she said as she hopped back and stretched out her hand.

Penny saw glowing yellow flames cascade around her eye, and another one that appeared in her hand. She didn't even need her most powerful processors to know what was coming next.

The world erupted into fire, a stream of angry flames casting the room in an inferno. There was a scream from behind her. The blaze smacked Penny head on, slicing away at her Aura with an angry roar.

Penny dashed backwards, drawing all of her blades and beginning to spin them in a circle. Her onboard processor calculated the right angle to blow the flames back as the eight blades spun clockwise, forcing back the blaze. Penny strained against the inferno, worrying that her blades would eventually hit their twist-zenith and the flames would engulf her again.

Her synthetic ears picked up the sound of whimpering. She turned her head and was met with the sight of a young Huntress in an Atlas uniform, cradling a bleeding arm. Her ginger twin tails were tinged with blood too and looked like they had been singed, her weapon—what looked like glowing blue nunchaku—were shattered and melted, Ice Dust inside spilling out onto the floor and leaving a ring of ice around the broken weapon.

She heard the sound of Eliphas' footfalls off to her side, but her focus was on keeping the momentum up so that neither of them were incinerated.

The wave of fire lasted for twenty seconds and 145 milliseconds according to the internal chronometer in her system. And then it ended without warning.

Penny spun aside and launched her blades forwards, letting the twines spin nearly to their end as the swords crashed through the remains of the flames.

They made no impact with where she calculated Cinder to be. Instead, she felt the impact of striking the wall a second and a half later, sending the impact vibrations up her wires.

She frowned as the fire parted, revealing Cinder and Eliphas both to have disappeared. No arrows, no Space Marine worshipping Chaos Gods, no Fall Maiden who thieved her powers. Only a burn scar on the floor that splayed out towards Penny like tendrils reaching to grab her and drag her into the abyss.

Penny hummed as she drew her swords back and returned them to her interior compartment, the blades snaking back into the small of her back with a small hiss.

"Damn," she hissed angrily, only to cover her mouth in shock. _Did I... did I just swear? I think Jacob is rubbing off on me!_

There was a sharp hiss behind her. She turned and was met with the sight of the girl, teetering on her feet. Penny felt like she had seen this girl before, but where she couldn't quite put it. Almost immediately, her facial recognition software began to comb her memory files for any matches.

"Wow," the girl said as she continued to cradle a bleeding arm. "That was amazing!"

Penny felt a big smile across her face. "Thank you, but you've been hurt. You should stay down and wait for a doctor."

The girl shook her head. "Nah, I can walk," she said, still tottering just a little on her feet. "But... who were those guys?"

Penny almost automatically let the words out through her mouth, only for her cogitation systems to override desperately. "Uhh... I... am not sure," she said in recovery, hoping it wasn't suspicious to her.

About then, her memory banks found a match. **[FACIAL ANALYSIS...88% MATCH TO: NEON KATT]**

 **[STUDENT: ATLAS ACADEMY—FRESHMAN CLASS—TEAM FNKI]**

 **[RACE: FAUNUS—CAT]**

Penny's memory pulled forth a clip from _RWBY_ itself, early on in Season 3, showing her fighting with Yang in the Vytal Tournament's arena.

An alarm sounded as she scanned the girl for injuries. **[WOUND NOTED: LACERATION ALONG TRICEP, DEEPNESS: UNKNOWN... 60% CHANCE OF MAJOR ARTERY BREACH; RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE MEDICAL ATTENTION]**

Penny grimaced. "That seems to be deep," she assessed. "And you've lost blood."

Neon smirked cockily. "I lost more when I fought a Beowolf for the first time," she said, her eyes starting to seem unfocused. "I mean, it's not that much... right?"

"Your entire sleeve is bloody," Penny commented worriedly.

She looked down as if it had only just occurred to her. "Oh... uh, I guess you're right. Wow... that is a lot."

Penny nodded her head. "Please," she said, "I don't want to see anyone else die today. Just... sit down and let's find you an armband. I think we can halt the blood flow."

A minute later, Penny had torn off a piece of her sleeve and was wrapping it around Neon's upper arm, wondering how the fight farther in the city was like. As far as she was aware, this was supposed to be the events pertaining to the end of Season 2, an event called 'The Breach,' as far as she was concerned with the name of the final episode and what Jacob was calling it. Out there in the city, Ruby, Jacob, Pyrrha and the rest of them were busy fighting the Grimm invasion coming from the subway systems. And yet, the footage indicated that Cinder did nothing during the events of the episode. Ergo, there was something that spurred her to act differently from the original timeline; she was originally supposed to perform the virus upload during the Dance, if Penny remembered right.

Penny's brows shot up just as she finished tying the band over her arm. "Oh dear," she said as she stood up and jumped over to the nearest terminal. Memory banks pulled infrastructure codes and access information, allowing her access to the core systems of the CCT. She was immediately into the network data, her fingers furiously typing in access codes as she felt worry in her emotional processors. Data poured across the screen, her eyes scanning anything she would have presumed out of sorts for the interior systems; a code out of line or missing, a program or site corrupted, something, anything that seemed out of sorts.

"Hey, uh," she heard Neon Katt say, "I think you dropped something."

"I'm sorry," she said, her processors focused exclusively on the codes. "I'm... a bit busy at the moment."

She continued for she didn't know how long, until she had combed every file uploaded for the last 600 seconds of data entry. She huffed in uncertainty; nothing there, but that was not a guarantee she had failed. Heck, their retreat was a guarantee they had managed to get the virus into the system. And yet she couldn't find anything...

She backed up, only for her hand to brush something. She looked down and was met with the sight of a melted piece of metal and plastic the size of her thumb, damaged beyond repair by fire and impacts, bent and warped in a myriad of ways that would be impossible to even salvage.

She felt her processors lock up with worry as she recognized it as a physical memory bank... the kind that she used for backup of her memory.

"Oh no..."

* * *

"We can't hold them any longer!"

"There's too many of them!"

"Are the rest of the civilians evacuated!?"

The cries between the Space Marines and other Imperials reached his ears through the din of battle, but his mind was preoccupied by other, more immediate threat. He pulled Cadia loose of a dying Creep with an exhausted huff, stumbling backwards as he felt his adrenal high begin to fade away. How long had he been fighting now? He'd lost track of time and he hadn't exactly had a chance to look down at his watch. The sun was getting high in the sky by now; surely it was closing in on midday?

There was a growl to his left, angry and hungry. Jacob sighed as he feathered Cadia's engine, her angry purr bringing the world back into focus. Even then, she was feeling heavy as sin, and he could feel his arms aching with each muscle spasm as he braced to fight again. His gaze traveled over his shoulder as he spotted it; another Beowolf, the... twentieth he had fought so far.

It crouched low, growling angrily. Jacob grimaced as he turned to face the beast, shakily drawing Cadia up and around as he channeled Obi-Wan Kenobi. With his outstretched hand he bade the creature forwards, not even sure if he was coaxing it forwards in mockery or in an earnest want to get it over with.

The Beowolf howled loud and long. Jacob's ears perked up nervously as he heard four more around him.

"Oh, that's not even remotely fair," he said as he turned and saw them encircle him. Five Beowolves, one novice-as-fuck Huntsman.

Whether in desperation or his reserves weren't fully gone, he felt adrenaline rush in his veins again.

The Beowolves lunged together, a five-pointed wall of teeth and spikes lunging at him.

With an angry roar of defiance, Jacob spun like a pirouetting dancer as Cadia roared to life in his hands, teeth spinning inwards as he sliced through their faces and torsos, feeling the tension of metal teeth meeting boney plates.

That didn't stop their forwards momentum as he found himself dogpiled by them, four of them hitting him limply. The fifth, however, collided with him and tore him loose of the others, sending Jacob face first into the dirt. He felt his waning Aura flare in terror, only for a growl to rumble behind him. He surged fearfully and angrily, trying to throw the creature off, but his low Aura did nothing to amplify his strength and stamina.

He felt something clamp onto the sides of his head with the force of a punch and the pain of one too. He let out a roar of pain as he squirmed his left arm free, trying to reach for his head on instinct. He was met with the touch of cold fur and a growl from directly behind him. The Beowolf was trying to eat his head.

His Aura felt like it would give out any second now.

Adrenaline surged in his veins as he reached in his pocket desperately with his free hand, the creature starting to shake its maw as if to tear Jacob's head from his shoulders. He felt the hilt of his pocket knife and flipped it open as he drew it from his pocket, spinning the stiletto and jabbing blindly.

A deafening howl left the creature's mouth as is let go of his head. With all of the instincts of an animal, Jacob scrambled forwards in a blind panic, drawing Titan as he flipped around and opened fire. The beast howled angrily again as it took a bullet in the chest, followed by a few in the arm and another in its jaw, that last one blasting the offending orifice apart. The creature recoiled in pain, throwing Jacob's shots off as he emptied his magazine into the open air behind them.

The Beowolf snarled through its lack of a lower jaw, wheeling angrily on the spot with blazing red eyes. It limped forwards, its one unwounded arm lashing out at him angrily as he scrambled backwards, Cadia on the opposite side of the Beowolf from Jacob.

Jacob felt terror grip his heart as he scrambled backwards. He reached for a magazine on his belt with the hand he held Titan in, only for him to feel nothing there. He was out of rounds now, at least for Titan, and Cadia was... well, behind the Beowolf.

He felt his stomach sink.

The beast prepared to lunge angrily, it's destroyed maw leaving it with a permanent snarl.

"Get away from him!"

He heard the sound of Ember Celica from off in the distance. A blur of gold slammed into the Beowolf, throwing it aside.

He was met with the sight of Yang, blazing with fire and anger, her eyes blood red as she landed beside him in a roll that ended with an immediate volley of shots from her shotgun-fisticuffs. He turned just in time to see the beast fly backwards from the shells, strangely not destroyed by the blasts.

Somewhere in the back of his adrenaline-drowned mind, his brain was wondering if he wouldn't be done with this Beowolf for a while as it stood up and fled into the city.

"That's right, fucker, you better run," she roared angrily, her body a raging inferno. She looked down at him, crimson eyes meeting his again. She offered him her hand up. "Are you okay?"

He felt his heart skip a beat. "Uhh... y-yeah," he said as he took the hand and stood up, body shaking again with adrenal fatigue. "I... th-thanks, Yang."

She sighed. "Don't mention it," she said before she took a massive breath, her personal inferno dying down again. Their little corner of the square was clear of Grimm for the moment, though across the way more fighting continued with the Imperials, the still-standing half of Team JNPR and the rest of Team RWBY. Jacob saw the dashing blur of red and black as more Beowolves dropped, their head removed with the force of a hurricane as a white and red motorcycle carried what he could only presume to be a White Scar aside her; A wall of ice skewered a half-dozen Boarbatusks as it manifested from thin air, The Great Wolf beside her as he slashed another three with a single cleave of Morkai, a literal trail of ice and fire arcing off of it from its arcane, Khornate origins. Blake zipped about the battlefield like an agile cat—how appropriate—her shadows dancing through the Grimm lines and slicing them apart with ease.

For the rest of the Imperials, they were busy having broken up into smaller groups stemming other threats elsewhere; he saw Vulkan and Gabriel back to back swatting away tides of Creeps, Vulkan's flaming spear with the icon of the Salamanders carving through them with the ease of a hot knife through butter as Angelos swatted them away by the dozen with each swing of his Remnantine warhammer. Cain and The Lysanders were busy holding back a pack of Ursa, with Captain Darnath himself squaring off against an Ursa Major while Luce backed up their daughter against another Ursa Major.

At the center of it all, though, stood Pyrrha and Jaune, fighting back to back as they... well, there was no way else to put it, as they _danced_ across the center of the battlefield. Jaune blocked an Ursa's paw for Pyrrha to jab the creature in the throat with her spear, only for the two of them to turn around, Jaune catching a Beowolf across the chin with Crocea Mors' shield. Pyrrha kicked out a leg and tripped the beast, forcing it onto her spear as Jaune pulled away and slashed another one across the snout, sending it reeling backwards as it gripped its bloodied snout. They were a blur of gold and white and red, as in-tune as partners could be as far as Jacob was concerned.

For a moment, he wondered if this time around Jaune might pick up on her feelings sooner rather than later. Then came a Raptor's cawing from the direction of the yawning maw in the ground, followed by another three or four.

And yet more Grimm continued to pour out of the tunnel, as if called up and over like soldiers from the First World War.

"There's no end to them," Jacob said shakily through his adrenal high. "They're fucking Legion."

Yang nodded. "We can't hold them off forever."

"Any ideas?"

She shook her head. "Not unless you have a boulder hiding in your pocket."

He reached into his pocket and produced one of his IEDs. "A hard no on that, and I doubt these are of any use," he said.

She grimaced in agreement as she racked another couple shells. "Round Five it is, then."

"Right, then. Let's give 'em hell. We resist and—"

His sentence was interrupted as a colossal series of booms echoed from the tunnel. Under his feet, the earth quaked angrily, though not enough to knock him off balance. But it was the first one that he noted that sounded... familiar.

Like giant footfalls.

For a moment, adrenal rage gave way to panic. _Oh no..._

There was a sound like a freight engine mixed with a screeching pig from inside the tunnel, sending other Grimm—even a pair of Ursa—scrambling out of the way.

The rocks around the area exploded outwards like they had been set to dynamite, though there was no flash from an explosion. Jacob could only see a mass of black from within the masses of concrete and earth, flying in every which-way.

Ruby stopped dead in her tracks as a concrete boulder four times her size zoomed past her and slammed into a clothing store. The White Scar managed to miss it, vaulting up another upturned concrete boulder to jump over the path of trajectory as it careened passed them. A smaller one struck and broke Weiss' ice wall, sending the heiress to the ground as ice shards fell on top of her. Another one zoomed past Jaune and Pyrrha, the former panicking and falling on his ass as a bowling ball-sized piece zoomed over his collapsed self; whatever this was had either solid precision, or was plain lucky. He and Yang as well were forced to shield themselves, a shower of dust and small rocks covering them in a coat of dirt.

However, Jacob could only wince as Blake took a piece the size of her torso square in the face, stopping her agile maneuvers and sending her to the ground in a heap with a scream of pain.

Yang started forwards through the settling dust, panic in her eyes. "Blake!" Without another word, she rushed forwards through the interrupted battle, leaving Jacob to stare on in confusion.

"W-wait, Yang, don't," he shouted in worry as he bolted after her, only for the sentence to die in his throat as the dust settled.

The black mass in the center of the crater moved.

The first thing that Jacob noticed was the shape. It was immediately noticeable as bearing the shape of a therapod dinosaur, and a big one at that. A short, squared and angular head was lined with rows of teeth that jutted from the sides of its short snout. Its body was stout and thick with muscle, practically obese by the standards of most animals. The upper half of it was wrapped in white, Grimm-bone armor plating, each plate bearing around 3 or so hooked spikes on them. Its head, also encased in bone, bore a row of spikes along the center of the snout, almost like a buzzsaw blade set in its head, trailing up its snout, down its neck and all the way to its spiny, jagged tail.

But the parts that made him the most worried were the stumpy, three-fingered and long-clawed arms at its side, and the massive bull horns that jutted up and forwards off of its brow, beady red eyes blinking hungrily.

" _Carnotaurus_ ," Jacob muttered in terror under his breath as the creature strode forwards, surveying the battlefield.

Across the battlefield, he saw Morkai shoot up and towards the beast. The roar that came out of Logan Grimnar's throat was terrifying in how much alarm there was.

"Matador!"

Jacob turned and gazed around at the chaotic battle. Most of the Huntsmen had drawn their attention to the Carnotaurus Grimm, the beast towering over them as it let out a haunting roar-scream from its throat, a lawn-mower and a tiger mixing with a dying pig in its throat. Other Grimm ran further into the city as if being around the beast was a death sentence.

At this juncture, Jacob wondered how accurate that was.

It lunged forwards at the nearest target, the Lysanders and Cain, its massive jaws snapping but failing to make purchase on any of them as they juked out of the way. Unfortunately, Jacob saw that even the tail was dangerous as it slammed against Delia's shield, sending her flying a dozen or so meters backwards and tumbling across the ground. Meanwhile, it continued on, the beast now comparable to a freight train with its forwards momentum. Ruby and the White Scar again dodged the oncoming threat, though its tail seemed to clip the back of the White Scar's bike.

Jacob began to step backwards as he watched charge forwards, its turning radius too wide to impact him where he was but still terrifying to watch. "We've got to get out of here," he said silently to himself. "We can't fight that thing, not without more help..."

About then he noticed where Yang was as she helped Blake to her feet; right in its sights.

Jacob's stomach roiled in terror. "Yang," he roared as he started running forwards, "look out!"

He saw the creature close in at impossible speeds, kicking up debris left and right as it charged, looking to trample the two partners. Yang rose a fist and fired, the Fire Dust shell screaming through the air and making impact with its brow.

It never even flinched, continuing forwards.

Jacob sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him, adrenaline still pumping through him as he pulled his chainsword loose and began to scream, trying to get its attention.

The creature was 100 feet from them, and its course didn't change.

Jacob continued to roar. "Hey! I'm right here you big brute! Come on, Ugly! Right here, fight me!"

50 feet, and Yang was still firing away, no shot making impact.

"Right here! Eat me, kill me! Come on, I'm right here!"

30 feet out.

"COME ON!"

A flash of bronze zipped past him, slamming into the side of its head with enough force to move it.

The Carnotaurus Grimm—the Matador—seemed to stumble and list to the side, its feet missing a step and its charge failing as it slipped and made impact with the ground.

Jacob's heart clenched in his chest as Yang turned to body-block Blake, only for the creature to skid past them, missing them by inches with its spiked tail.

Jacob skidded to a stop a few feet out, trying to find where that bronze blur was from. Surely it had to be Pyrrha's shield, a thought that only slightly less unnerved him since it now meant that she was probably in its line of sight.

He was indeed right. Pyrrha leapt and rolled over some concrete rubble with Jaune in tow, launching Miló at the beast with a blast of a Fire Dust round. The spear soared and made impact, sinking in a good four or five inches into its blackened hide as it tried to rise to its feet. The Carnotaurus—or, rather, the Matador shrieked angrily, trying to right itself as Pyrrha jumped and kicked out her feet at the spear, sinking it in deeper. The creature roared again as Jaune went to slice into its face with a defiant roar, only for Crocea Mors to bounce off harmlessly.

"This guy's hide is really tough," Jaune cried out with a tone of worry as the beast righted itself and began to rise on its feet with a shake of its head. Jaune began to back away, terror dripping off posture. "Oh, crap! Run!"

Jacob felt himself go clammy as Pyrrha and Jaune began to retreat, the Mistrali Huntress pulling her weapons free of the beast with her magnetic Semblance. The Carnot—the _Matador_ —gave chase with a colossal roar, its single-minded course laser-focusing on the two even as he saw Blake open fire at it with Gambol Shroud.

Jacob didn't need to be a physicist to know full well that Jaune and Pyrrha couldn't outrun the beast. At a glance, it could and wound outrun them in a straight line, though they went and mitigated that problem by turning their trajectory just a hair. It wasn't a lot, but Jacob saw that it was enough to force it to slower speeds than its maximum; yet there was little doubt that it would still catch up with them.

Jacob grimaced as he levelled Cadia and Titan and squeezed both triggers, trying to land a good shot. Cadia clicked hollowly as Titan roared, a charge of Lightning Dust slamming into its boney osteoderms. The creature didn't even flinch.

"Fucking Christ," Jacob cursed under his breath. _This thing's not gonna go down easy._

Jaune and Pyrrha swerved aside as they reached the street across the plaza, Jaune screaming as the beast snapped at his heels and missed, its trajectory too wide to not slam into another building.

"That was my favorite store," he heard Coco scream as a volley of shots soared past Jacob's left flank at the beast. The shots made laser-guided impact, but it did nothing to distract or damage the creature. The Matador roared as it burst from the ruined store and chased after Pyrrha and Jaune, disappearing down the street.

Ruby alighted near him, tired and leaning on Crescent Rose as she panted tiredly. "Why is... it after them?!"

"I think it's single-minded enough to chase anything running from it," Jacob said as he felt clammy sweat pour off his brow. "We have to find a way to get its attention!"

"How do you suppose we do that," Weiss said as she joined them, shortly followed by Yang and Blake.

"Its underbelly is exposed," Blake offered as she stared at where it had last been. I can swing underneath and carve at it, then the rest of us can finish it off!"

Jacob nodded. "I like the sound of that! Let's go!" At that, he took off at a dead sprint, only to be immediately outpaced by Team RWBY, even though most of them were battered and sporting bruises of some kind. He growled, angry at his own slowness as he sprinted forwards at his flat-out top speed, following the trail of carnage it left in its wake.

There was a solid six whole minutes of sprinting he forced himself to endure, his lungs and legs burning as his Aura desperately worked overtime to keep him alive and alert. He thundered down several streets, following the trail of overturned cars and smashed buildings, frantically ducking past Grimm too busy with searching through the ruins to notice him, surprisingly.

There was a cry of pain farther down the fifth road he turned onto. He recognized it immediately. "Blake!"

Not a second later, he saw her limply fly down the street towards him, hitting the ground and rolling like a rag doll as a flash of violet energy coursed over her as she cried out with each tumble and impact that she made. She stopped a few feet short of him, Jacob immediately dropping to a knee and picking her up to rest in his lap.

He was quick to note that she had been spared any damage other than her impact with the pavement, though that had not been so kind. She was covered in cuts and bruises, purple and red set to her tan skin. Her left eye looked to be already turning black and blue from the impact, though he didn't see any swelling, just coloration. Her bow had been ripped from her head, her Faunus ears out for the world to see.

"Oh my God," Jacob said as he tried to gently shake her awake. "Blake, talk to me!"

Blake groaned in pain, her eyes still closed. She moved slightly, only for her to wince and clutch her sides. "It's... ggh... it's too strong..."

Jacob felt the blood and heat rush from his face as he let her try to talk. "Easy, easy, Kitty-Cat," he said. Curosity filled him as he felt her side. He could feel what he presumed to be a rib... and it was moving like it were hinged.

Blake let out a cry of pain, making him wince. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about me, y-you need—agh! You need to h-help them!"

Jacob winced again. "Did anyone else take a hit before you?"

"...Weiss down... Yang was still fighting. Ruby's staying back and f-firing from afar."

Jacob grimaced. It was just down to Pyrrha, Jaune and Ruby. How poetic. He reached into his jacket pocket and produced his Scroll, shakily trying to dial for a number. He heard the ringing for several seconds as another roar from the Matador sounded off, followed by the retort of Crescent Rose.

The ringing gave way to the light sounds of a scuffle. " _Not a good time, Jacob,"_ came the voice of Vulkan. _"Where are you anyway, I saw you and the others take off after the creature, we got cut off—"_

"Blake's been hit hard," he said in panic. "She's got some broken ribs, I think there might be some internal bleeding, I don't know for certain."

" _Alright,"_ he said after a second, _"Hang on, Pythol and I will be right there. Just keep her safe."_

"I am not leaving the others to take that fucking thing on alone," he hissed back.

There was a revving sound down the road as a motorcycle of white and red rounded the corner, carrying the White Scar on it. "No need," he said in his thick Mongolian accent. "I've got her, go and help them!"

Jacob nodded before he looked down at Blake.

She grimaced through the pain as she stared at him with her bright, amber eyes, even as one seemed to only open half-way. "I'll be fine," she said, "go and help—ah! Help them!"

He stood up and let the White Scar dismount his bike and replace him. "Thank you..."

"Sugodai," he replied. "Sugodai Tsagaan."

Jacob nodded before he quickly flashed a sign of the Aquila, turned about and thundered back after the group.

In his mind, he found himself worried in both directions. The thought that crossed his mind carried double meanings aplenty. _Please don't be too late, please don't be too late..._

Another three streets of carnage and scattered Grimm—small enough ones that he easily dispatched them—and he was met with another town square. Here, it was evident that the Vale Police had tried to put up a fight with the Grimm and had succeeded for the most part.

That was, until Pyrrha and Jaune had accidentally lured the Matador to them.

Cop cars sat overturned or on fire, several caved in like they had been t-boned. Police barriers and riot shields sat crushed in giant theropod footprints, as firearms sat scattered across the ground. Even more gruesomely, some were still attached to arms and whole people, several cops having been crushed or savaged by the beast; were Jacob a few months younger, he might have truly thrown up at the bloody messes left in craters and wreckages.

The only things alive in sight were Yang, Ruby... and a dozen Raptors that had set upon them, encircling them and caging them from escape. Ruby was just landing back on the ground as a Raptor smacked her with its claws, while Yang was in the process of throwing off a humongous dogpile of the bastards.

"Jesus Fuck," he hissed. "Hang on, I'm comi—"

Suddenly, a building on his left exploded.

Jacob jumped in terror as he saw brick, glass, wood and concrete fly about, forcing him to the ground as some of the lighter, smaller debris made a bee-line for him. As the passed over him, he winced just a hair, only for his eyes to catch something.

His heart went cold and still as he saw Pyrrha and Jaune both fly limply through the air into the second story of another building across the way, crashing through the window and into the building.

The scream came before he even registered it in his mind. "PYRRHA! JAUNE!"

He didn't even need to think about it before he rushed after them, ignoring the Matador's angry roaring. He dove through the door and up the stairwell as he heard the store's entryway explode at the hands of the creature's charge.

 _Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay, Oh God, please be okay!_

He ascended the stairwell and immediately spotted them; it wasn't hard to spot them in the giant crater in the drywall along the back of the building. Jaune seemed alright at first glance, groaning and trying to right himself, only to fail as the drywall he was perched on cracked and failed around him.

What chilled Jacob's blood was Pyrrha... and the blood dripping from her head. "Oh my God," he said through the roaring beast outside as he dashed over to her and tried to right her.

The good news was that she didn't have anything protruding from her, whether head or body. The bad news was she seemed to be bleeding from where her circlet was. Blood was running onto her brow, her pallor already starting to get paler. She was limp and unconscious.

Jacob ran a hand through her hair, terror gripping him. "No, no, please God, no! Not like this! Pyrrha, please, wake up!"

No response.

The wall across from them exploded. Jacob instinctively blocked her from the debris, feeling wood and brick smack him in the back. He roared in pain as his already weak Aura strained against the impacts, only for the floor beneath them to retort.

He suddenly felt like he was falling... for all of a second or two.

He cried out as he landed on his back with Pyrrha cradled in his chest, like a child with their favorite toy. That feeling of a fire in him fizzled and cracked, leaving him feeling normal, sans the pain he was feeling. His Aura had broken...

And the roaring beast outside was making a go at them.

He reached for Titan and fired blindly as he cradled Pyrrha with his other arm, only opening his eyes as the last shot made impact with its tongue... as it was mere inches from chomping down on Pyrrha's feet. The beast snarled and reared backwards at the pain.

Jacob desperately scrambled back, struggling to pull Pyrrha back despite her weighing well beneath his weight by any guess. The screams out of his mouth were only compounded by the realization he had just emptied Titan of all of his rounds. He reached over and produced Cadia desperately as the creature reared forwards again, gunning the engine on instinct and slicing into its nose. To his horror, the strike bounced off of the bony plate on its head, only making a screeching sound as metal met bone. Still, the creature was driven back for a second, giving him a chance to look out past it.

Without even intending on it, he found himself locking eyes with Yang as she watched them from afar, the Raptors slowly encircling them, now joined by a pack of Beowolves. Her eyes were wide in terror, her Aura visibly flickering and wavering; she was also nearly out of Aura.

For a brief, horrified moment, Jacob stared into her eyes and wondered if this would be their final hurrah. No fighting Cinder, no fighting Salem, Team RWBY and JNPR would end here at the Breach.

No happy ever after for them.

Something sparked in the back of his mind at that as the Matador lunged forwards again, teeth snapping. With a surge of exhausted strength, Jacob kicked out and pushed back off the Grimm's snout, giving them a bit more distance to work with. He stared at Cadia for a second, wondering what he could do with it against such an armored creature.

About then, he noticed the power nodule.

... _Fucking idiotic me,_ he thought to himself, as he triggered its shift into a saber for the first time in a while. Immediately, the nodule sprung up along the bade and sparked to life, electricity coursing down the blade and giving it a glow of blue energy.

From chainsword to power sword. _Talk about ranking up._

He leaned up and swung again as it tried to snap at Jaune, this time feeling the blade slice into the bone plate over its nose with ease. The beast roared deafeningly in his ears, reeling back and smashing its head into a support beam, bringing more of the second story down on it. Jacob felt a brief moment of respite as he forced himself onto his feet, desperately dragging Pyrrha up as he strained to keep her upright on his own. If they could just hold out for a few more minutes...

The Matador wasn't having it, swinging its head with another roar. Right then, Jacob spotted one of its horns too late as it swung, its head shearing a path at terrifying speeds.

Searing pain scored his sword arm's shoulder and yanked him off his feet, dragging him across the room with a scream of pain and terror. His world was pain in his arm right up until he felt his momentum stop and his back erupt in pain. It must have thrown him into the wall. He grimaced through the searing pain and tears as he sat himself upright and reached for his shoulder. He felt a ragged hole about the size of a paintbrush in his shoulder, and a hot, stickiness to it. His blood. He was bleeding like a stuck pig.

But his mind turned to something more urgent. _Pyrrha... I lost hold of her..._

He forced his eyes open through the pain. He saw her laying on her side where he had been, now ten feet away.

The Matador was poised to clamp its jaws down on her. Across the way, an injured and drained Jaune reached in desperation, trying and failing to get onto his feet.

Jacob grimaced angrily. "H-hey, ugly," he groaned as he tried to right himself to get in front of her, "pick on someone still conscious."

The Matador stopped and turned to face him with a growl, its burning, hungry red eyes boring holes into his soul.

 _Not planning on them or me dying today,_ he thought to himself as he powered up Cadia. _But if I'm going, I'm taking you with me, motherfucker._

He picked Cadia up off the floor and moved in to swing. The beast lunged.

He heard Jaune cry his name in terror.

For a moment, he saw his life flash before his eyes as the creature's hungry, yawning maw opened, revealing row upon row upon row of teeth in its mouth, like the world's angriest wood chipper. He swung Cadia in a last-ditch strike.

The blade never connected. Neither did the Matador.

Something threw the 50-foot long Grimm aside, it's massive frame carving half of the entryway out as if it had been slammed by a tank round. That part of the building collapsed, leaving the rest intact as sunlight flooded the room.

Jacob blinked through his confusion and the growing lightheadedness he felt. "H-huh?"

Someone landed in front of him, crouched low in a superhero landing. He could immediately tell it was a she by the figure, her body robed in a light brown corset and bronze, lightweight-looking armor. At first glance, Jacob could see she was almost his height, probably the same as him if he was honest. She wore a leather-strap skirt, black leggings and black combat boots, though Jacob's stomach roiled as he recognized a very familiar red sash around her waist, clasped beneath a leather belt of bronze and red medallions. In her hands she wielded a very a pair of xiphos-like shortswords, Jacob spotting long chains wrapped around her arms, like she was trying to be Kratos.

But her head of red hair—actual red—cut in a bob-like hairstyle made Jacob double take the most.

"Get away from our daughter," she hissed.

The voice that left her mouth left Jacob's blood frigid in his veins. It was perhaps a pitch lower by comparison, but it sounded just like... Pyrrha.

He didn't need that much brain power to figure out who this was.

 _Pyrrha's mom._

The Matador stood itself back up with a shake of its head, limping on its left leg. It turned and snarled with its mouth of teeth, lunging forwards again.

A blur of gold and red slammed into it, throwing it into the adjacent building again. The blur zipped backwards at speeds Jacob would mistake a lightning bolt to wield.

Or a Space Marine.

A voice rang out, Jacob's mind recognizing it as no different from Hugo Weaving's dulcet tones.

"Pandora, now!"

The woman nodded and burst forwards, leaping forwards and launching a blade at an exposed support beam. The blade imbedded itself as she swung forwards at the beast, releasing the other blade as she spun it in a circle and launched it.

The Matador screamed in pain as the blade sunk deep into its neck, only for it to whip its head back and bite down on the chain and blade in an attempt to pull it loose.

"No, you don't," she said as a vial of light near the end of the chain sparked with gold light. The light traveled down the blade with a scream, the creature suddenly spasming as yellow electricity coursed up and down it. The sparking lasted all of two seconds before she yanked the other chain loose and tossed it down into the other side of its neck as she swung up and over it. She landed with a grunt and pulled the chain taught, a crimson Aura flaring to life as she visibly strained against the creature as it tried to stand back up. The tug of war began, one lone woman smaller than her daughter holding down a _Carnotaurus_ Grimm that was more along the dimensions of a _Tyrannosaurus_.

Jacob didn't know if it was the blood loss or the awe of the scene, but he felt his jaw go slack at the sight.

She strained as the beast began to lift its head, only for the woman—Pandora—to grunt and pull the creature's head down.

About that moment, Jacob felt the spark of a memory. _Wait... Pandora..._

"Honey, now!" she called out as she strained against the beast.

The voice rang out again as the sound of a jet engine roared overhead. "By the Blood!"

The gold blur appeared again, this time joined by a glowing cascade of blue. It came down on the beast's neck.

Jacob felt his breath flee him as the Matador's neck was cleaved in twain, not even the bone putting up any resistance as it flopped loose and fell to the earth with a colossal thud, only to be obscured by a dust cloud.

Jacob blinked hard as he watched on in awe, the gold figure righting himself with a groan. He rolled his neck and began to turn around as the woman retracted the blades on their chains, following suit with a look of urgency.

Jacob gasped in shock as he recognized the figure.

In the armor he stood around seven feet tall, any of his features obscured by golden armor carved with intricate features. Abdominal muscles and pectorals had been carved onto the chest plate, the sheen on his armor dulled by the dust he had kicked up, leaving his form a matte version of what most might have considered the pinnacle of the human form. Jacob spotted a pistol in his other hand, the slotted barrel and large tube on the side being instantly recognizable as an inferno pistol, the Meltagun's handheld little brother with just as much kick. In his other hand, though, was an axe more than half of Jacob's size, its gold body, wing-tipped pick and leather hilt leading to a bearded axe head wreathed in blue energy. On his back was a massive backpack with a pair of vents; a Jump Pack, one of the more modern designs by Imperial standards. And upon his head, cast in gold, was the scowling, screaming face of The Lord of the Ninth Legion, the Great Angel Sanguinius, his head wreathed in a halo.

Jacob felt his breath leave his lungs in awe at the presence of the Lord Commander of the Blood Angels. The urge to take a knee was strong, even though the urge to pass out as he felt the blood flowing from his wound lessening. Was the wound already clotting itself, or was he running out of blood. Why was the world spinning even though everything was standing still?

The two turned their attention back to the two of them as the sounds of battle and familiar grunting was heard, followed by Ruby's voice crying out 'Uncle Qrow!?' Raptors screeched in pain as Jacob tottered over to the window to see. He was met with the sight of a blur of black and silver fighting Ruby and Yang, stopping every so often to reveal the form of Qrow Branwen fighting with them.

"Qrow... you weren't supposed to be here... 'til Volume... 3," Jacob muttered as the dizziness increased. He felt himself fall over, facing the rest of them.

Pyrrha was being scooped up in Dante's arms as Jaune was propped up by the woman, a hint of panic to his posture. "Pyrrha," came the Dante's voice again, smooth and calm yet carrying urgency to it. "Speak to me, sweetheart. Don't go into the light..."

Jacob felt his stomach churn as his vision faded. His mind put things together in desperation.

"Pyrrha... dad..."

The last thing to go through his mind before he was swept into unconsciousness was four simple words.

 _Dante... is... her father..._

* * *

 **And... Scene.**

 _ ***passes out in exhaustion***_

 **Next Chapter, we see the aftermath and the tribulations the main character has to deal with. Of course he ain't dead, yet, the plot demands it!**

 **Review, comment, like, favorite, all that good stuff, and I will see you all in the next Chapter... buh-bye~!**


	34. The Storm's Wake

**Okay, this chapter took way too long on my part and I apologize. I admit I've kinda lost some steam between writing this and finishing up classes, but hopefully that will change with the next chapter.**

 **Anyways, on with the** **show.**

* * *

 **Chapter 34: The Storm's Wake**

* * *

" _Certain is it that there is no kind of affection so purely angelic as of a father to a daughter."_ —Joseph Addison

* * *

Light and yet darkness. Pain. The beeping of a heart monitor.

Wind. No, a breeze, tickling his nose. A soft sound of a wind chime, cut out by footsteps echoing on a hard, tile floor. Again, pain.

A distant, antiseptic smell... rubbing alcohol; no, weaker and easier on his nose. A simple towelette like every one of his high school teachers had, that was his second guess.

Again, pain. This time he could actually note where it was. It was a sharp pain, one that ran from his shoulder to his neck and back down again, less like a pulse and more like a burn.

Jacob felt a grimace form on his face as he slowly came to. He could feel himself lying in something soft and warm, but he felt no sheets like he usually did. He was definitely in a room of some kind, but outside of that he couldn't really tell.

Slowly, the gears in his mind began to thunder to life. _Pain... tired... there was... battle? Right, the Breach..._

He dared to open his eyes. For once, though, he wasn't bombarded by white-hot light directly in his eyes.

He only let out a grunt of relief, feeling like any motor function of his mouth was at best weak at the moment. _No blinding headache to deal with. That's a nice change of pace._ About then, he noticed what he was looking up at; the familiar sight of a pure white roof that frankly towered well over his head, as if he was resting inside of a church or something along those lines. His first instinct to let his confusion be voiced silently as he slowly blinked in thought, letting the view process in his mind.

 _What am I doing in... wait a minute, I know that ceiling anywhere..._

He looked down towards the windows and spotted the looming form of the CCT Tower, casting a shadow over the building he was now in. He was in the Beacon Infirmary, and judging by how he felt and how everything seemed, he had been there for a least a little while.

His eye noticed another tidbit to himself, drawing his attention down to the rest of his body. He noticed he wasn't entirely in his regular clothes; his jacket and shirt were missing, and though his pants remained on his legs, they were sporting scuffs and tears and several holes in them, no doubt from debris and shrapnel from the fighting. His shoes miraculously seemed to avoid damage, bearing dust and some scuffs but otherwise they remained alright.

He turned his head to the left, wondering if he'd see what he expected to see. At first, he spotted the separating curtains one would expect from a medical facility, a pale blue, practically white color that was warm but felt off to him. But another form caught his eye, forcing his attention on it. Sure enough, a small, off-white wooden table sat to his left side, bearing a bulbous lamp and a few of his personal possessions tucked up right beside it. He saw Cadia resting against the table, his stomach dropping in his groggy stupor as he noticed the dried splotches of rust-brown streaked across its blue frame and golden features. He didn't need to ponder long about what that was; after all, he remembered well that blood, when dried, turned a rusty brown color.

He swallowed a dry gulp in his mouth. He wasn't particularly anxious to know just how many he had exactly killed in those tunnels. Just how many of those curs he had sent to the grave for their transgressions...

Groggily, he shook the thought from his head as he paid mind to the rest of the items present. Titan sat on the top of the table beside the lamp, covered in grime and filth and a few visible splatters of that same rust brown on its silver frame. The longer he stared at it, the more he noticed some visible scars on it, more than just the few knife scars he put into the barrel. He grimaced as he realized in his waking stupor that he didn't know how to remove scrapes on a gun's casing.

But the other thing he noticed grabbed his attention like it were trying to kiss him square on the lips. Then again, with what he was seeing, that might have been the intention.

It was a bouquet of yellow, red and white roses sitting on the table, wrapped together with a black and purple bow, sitting in a greenish-blue vase the color of the sea. They seemed to be fresh, though Jacob was suddenly worried how he couldn't smell them from where he was sitting. Then again, they were several feet away at the most, he probably wouldn't have been able to smell them to begin with.

He blinked in confusion as he studied the roses. As far as he was concerned, you didn't send flowers to someone hospitalized unless they are fully conscious and almost done recovering, or you've been passed out for some time. A part of him began to worry.

He deigned to shift in his bed as he tried to get up. "What... what's the time," he said to no one, the silence his only friend here. He looked down at his watch on instinct, hoping to see.

He was blessed with an unobscured and uncracked view of the time, at least by his watch's standards. 11:07, August 29th.

He hummed in groggy thought. "We left on the 27th... The Breach was... only yesterday..."

He looked up through the windows again. This time, he noticed the distant wispy clouds of dark smoke, carried off in the distance by a weak wind that he presumed was eastbound from the ocean.

"A day..."

A flash of a pale skull with demon horns flashed in his mind, phantom pain screaming in his shoulder. He suddenly noticed his arms go rigid and his heart begin to pick up its pace. Why was his chest suddenly tight? Why was his shoulder screaming with pain? The hiss of pain that left his mouth came without him even trying to make a sound to begin with.

"Easy, son," came a voice like honeyed wine. "You had a busy day yesterday."

Jacob blinked in confusion. "Who... who's there?" He looked around, blinking the grogginess away as much as he could, though he still failed tremendously at the task. He knew he heard that voice a moment ago, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out where it had come from... Had he imagined it? Had he taken enough hits to be worthy of the funny farm?

"Perhaps it's the fact you are in recovery from your blood loss," said the voice again, "but you are surprisingly inattentive, consider what I heard about you."

Jacob blinked again as his mind rattled and whirred over the voice's choice of words. He stopped moving about so panickily as he searched around, wondering if that was part of the problem.

The corner of his eye spotted movement by the windows. He turned to look there, having to squint a smidge as the white walls reflected the sunlight into his eyes.

Sitting in the comfy, plush visitor's chair was a rather tall but lithe man, reclined back a bit but still carrying a poise that felt... in all honesty, like it was second nature to him. He was wearing what seemed to be a pair of black overalls over a red button up shirt with a chest pocket, black loafers on his feet, giving him a look that to Jacob reminded of both the average farmer and a casual businessman, but lacking any sense of snootiness. His head was topped with long, flowing, golden hair that rivaled Yang in its color and vibrancy, as amber eyes with the ferocity a hawk's and yet the calm of a beach at low tide stared at Jacob casually. His face was sharp but patricianly, giving him an air of cunning and magnanimousness that made Jacob feel like he was in the presence of a great leader of men.

Jacob didn't even need to ask who this was. He was good enough of a guess to know who this was. "My Lord Dante," he said, shakily taking a knee.

"I see my status transcends even the confines of space and time," said Dante, his voice stolen right from the throat of Hugo Weaving. "Forgive me if I am not as enthusiastic about being called that."

Jacob winced, both in pain and in embarrassment. "My apologies," Jacob said, shifting back onto his feet cautiously. He found himself to be struggling as he did so, his legs shaky and his head swimming each time he tried to rise.

"Easy, Muller," said Dante with a simple chuckle. "Here, let me help you."

Before Jacob could reply, he felt a strong hand grab hold of his arm and pull up. Surprisingly, though, it was a gentle tug, lifting him up gently enough that he could return to his feet and not topple over. Jacob looked up and was met with those same amber eyes and those strong, sharp features. This time, though, they were enwrapped in a warm smile that made the Lord of the Blood Angels feel like a kindly patriarch rather than the ironclad warrior of a thousand years of warfare.

For a moment, Jacob felt a strange instinct to hug him, only to shake it off in tandem with the stars he began to see. "Uh... th-thank you, sir," he said nervously, the Blood Angel's presence making him feel far smaller than he had ever felt around the rest of them.

"Not a problem at all, Mr. Muller," he said with a genuine chuckle. Jacob felt the tension practically melt from his mind, though he still felt a small hint of trepidation in his own mind.

Jacob blanched. "How... wait... right, right, the other Imperials have been in contact with you. Right..."

Dante nodded sagely. "As I said, you had a rather busy day yesterday. I'm frankly quite amazed you can stand at all with that scar still in your shoulder."

"...Scar?"

Dante's left index finger poked Jacob's shoulder gently, tracing a line to a hole that only now Jacob noticed. Searing pain roared down Jacob's arm, forcing a wince and a hiss of pain.

"Jesus fuck..."

"Ah, an adherent of the old Catheric faith," said Dante. "Interesting."

"Where did... wait... The _Carnotaurus_ Grimm," Jacob said in slow-dawning revelation.

Blinding white teeth snapped in his mind. He flinched.

He felt his shoulder be gently braced. "Easy there," Dante said. "You might keep having some flashbacks to that. They should pass in time."

Echoes of other memories began to flash more and more in Jacob's mind as he steadied himself. "Trust me, Sir," he said as he leaned back into a support column, "This isn't my first rodeo with bad memories."

The Blood Angel nodded. "Indeed, if what my daughter says about you is true."

Jacob blinked away the images of a boy bleeding out in his arms at the sentence. Another memory was shoving itself forwards at Dante's comment. "Your... daughter..." For a brief moment in his mind's eye, he could remember Dante standing in the light of a late morning sun amidst the rubble of a damaged store. He remembered the Lord Commander holding something in his arms... a person, but his memory was fuzzy to...

A flutter of crimson hair, weak and limp like its own was. Gold and leather clad atop the body of an angel.

"Oh my God..."

He turned to stare at the Blood Angel for a hearty minute, looking for some sign of deceit, that it was only a joke and nothing more.

Nothing spoke to him of deceit for the minute that he sat staring at the Blood Angel, the Astartes giving him a look halfway between bemused and annoyed.

The words left Jacob's mouth like they were made of lead weights. "Pyrrha... she's your... and you're her..."

Dante nodded quietly.

Jacob felt his legs begin to waver as context and implications flooded his mind. "She's... she's the... granddaughter of... The Great Angel..." He was forced to lean back against the table, the water sloshing in the vase as the roses shook and threatened to lose petals.

Dante seemed to tense at his choice of words, though there was no visible change in the Blood Angel's posture. "I would advise caution speaking of that at the moment," he said in a quiet, calm but faintly-warning tone. "The curtains have ears that don't know of our world."

Jacob didn't need to ponder the comment for more than a second before he paled. He turned and didn't even hesitate to pull back the white curtains. His heart skipped a beat for a second.

Laying on a medical bed just like the one he had been lying on, bandaged and sporting visible bruises, was the girl in question. Pyrrha was unconscious, her emerald eyes hidden behind her eyelids as she was resting. She had been dressed down, her tunic and skirt now replaced by a blue and white hospital gown that covered all but her ankles, feet and calves. On an offhand note to himself, he realized that his eyes had stopped for a few moments longer on her Achilles heel before his eyes moved on to other notations. Her circlet had also been removed, replaced by a gauze bandage around the base of her hairline as the bronze accessory sat on a similar table to the one that was carrying his stuff. What made his stomach roll was the fact that there was a solid line of dark red about the width of a screwdriver head that traced a line from her brow down to her left eye; a blood trail, though definitely not as fresh as he had first been worried about. Still, it unnerved him.

Seated in a chair on the far side of her bed from Jacob sat a sleeping Jaune, his right arm wrapped in a stark white cast and a matching bandage to Pyrrha's over his brow. He was seated close to her, head tilted towards her as he mumbled in his sleep, his blonde hair a little more unkempt than usual.

For a moment, he scanned his memory to figure out what happened. About then, he remembered her and Jaune's collision with the wall of the store after the _Carnotaurus_ Grimm—the Matador, that was its name—sent them flying.

Jacob watched them for a few more seconds, letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding in as he saw the steady rise and fall of Pyrrha's chest. "They're okay... Oh, thank God, they're okay."

"She was awake a few hours ago," Dante added quietly, "but otherwise she's been resting. Claiborne said she would make a full recovery, though not quite as quickly as Mr. Arc will."

Jacob nodded absently as he watched the two, noting Jaune shift slightly so he was closer to Pyrrha. For a brief moment, Jacob began to hope that Jaune was clueing in for a change before the thought was banished from his mind with a shake of his head. Again, his eyes turned to Pyrrha, watching her sleep serenely in recovery. This time, however, he suddenly felt like he was staring at a completely different person than the girl he had promised to save all those months ago. His mind wasn't playing tricks on him, at least as far as he knew, but he could swear that she... looked different. Maybe he was imagining things, but she looked more... realistic was the first word that came to mind; the ghosts of features truer to life, not perceived by the naked eye but still just there... ghosts of things his animation-addled eyes couldn't make out. Yet, he glanced at Jaune and saw nothing quite the same.

He suppressed the confused shudder that crawled up his spine.

"Are you alright, Muller," asked Dante.

"...Yeah," he replied after a second of thought. "I just... found myself thinking about something."

"Considering what you are gazing at—or rather _who_ —forgive my suspicions and my worry," he replied. "Especially if it pertains to my daughter."

"He's not the only one," came another voice that chilled Jacob's blood. He looked up from Pyrrha and was met with... Pyrrha 2.0. Jacob would have jolted in surprise had he not recognized her; the woman that had attacked the Matador first. Pyrrha's mom, and by extension...

 _Pandora Nikos, wife of Dante._

 _Pandora..._

 _I am such a fucking idiot._

When he last saw her, he presumed she was in some manner of combat wear, considering the armor plates she had been wearing. Now, however, she looked like a civilian, albeit dressed a lot like her daughter was. She wore a long sleeved red and gold sweater and dark blue jeans, so dark that Jacob didn't even recognize that there was blue there to begin with at a first glance. She hadn't changed the poofy bob that she had worn before, the amassed strands bearing the same bright red as her daughter had. Her face was slightly rounder to his eyes, and speaking of which, he found himself staring into bright green eyes slightly different from Pyrrha's own; where Pyrrha's were a deep emerald color, these were almost the colors of a jungle, darker but still as vivid as Pyrrha's were. Jacob had to assume her father's amber eyes had lightened them into the color of an emerald.

To Jacob, she was almost an older clone of Pyrrha; hell, under other circumstances he would have mistaken her for an older sister with how youthful she looked in comparison to some of the older women he had met in Remnant.

She wore a gentle look on her face, but she seemed to still be hiding an essence of worry behind her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Jacob held up a hand in reassurance. "It's... it's alright, Ma'am," he said. "I just... after what happened, I was worried about both of them."

"You should tell them the truth before I go and tell it."

Jacob whipped around at the familiar voice. He was met with the sight of Captain Titus and Mira watching him with stolid faces, both of them bandaged up mildly.

"Captain Titus," Jacob said with a look and tone of surprise. "You're okay! Oh my God, I thought..."

Titus nodded and smirked. "It isn't an easy task to kill an Astartes Captain," he said, "even when he's long been stripped of his armor and geneseed."

Mira walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, her arm noticeably wrapped in gauze though not sporting a cast. "We're alright, but we both nearly had a panic attack when we heard about what happened with you three," she said, motioning at the duo behind Jacob.

Jacob nodded in response, biting back a wince from her hand's touch. "It was... something I'm probably going to have nightmares about for a while," he replied, a shiver crawling down his back as he remembered the red glowing eyes that stared back hungrily at him and Pyrrha. "How'd you guys get away from Nemeroth?"

Now it was Mira's turn to smirk. "We managed to fool the bastard down a dead-end tunnel and used a few of your IEDs you had dropped to seal him in. He's going to be stuck in there for a few weeks at best."

"A few days, honestly, considering how strong Terminator armor is," Jacob replied as he winced from her grip. "I was wondering why my jacket was lighter all of a sudden when I had been running for the train. When did I drop them?"

"The cultist slaughter," Titus replied.

Jacob's stomach sank as the sea or red and pained screams came back to him. "Right... I... I forgot..."

Out of the corner of his vision, he noticed Dante's face soften a smidge. He didn't know exactly how to take that.

Jacob swallowed as he attempted to drown the images of gore in the moment. "R-regardless," he said, "that's... how many were there again, forty or something? Whatever, that's less worshippers of Chaos to worry about."

The Imperials present gave him a look of trepidation that made his confidence practically faceplant. In the back of his mind, even he knew that such an idea was a false equivalence. After all, Chaos Cults tended to number not in the dozens, but the hundreds... if not the thousands...

The silence was deafening to him.

Titus groaned painfully as he stepped forwards, a wince on his face as he approached. "Don't focus on that," he said. "Remember what they were."

"I know," he said, "But I can't help but wonder if they really knew what they were worshipping... Did Eliphas sell them only the 'good parts' so to speak? The power, the pleasure, the knowledge, all that shit without telling them about the likelihood of becoming a mutated, psychopathic fuck?"

Mira and Titus shared a look between one another, tinged with understanding mixed with a dourness. Jacob was quick to understand that he was not broaching them with an unasked question.

Jacob sighed as he noticed Dante and Mrs. Nikos— _Pandora_ , he reminded himself, _but I should still call her Mrs. Nikos—_ staring at them intently. Dante's look was one tinged with that same edge he was getting used to seeing in Astartes, that look of a hunter gathering information on his prey. Beside him, Mrs. Nikos watched with an expression soaked in concern, the look in her eyes like she was just learning about something she had missed.

"The Eightfold Path is back," she said with a tone of realization. "Well, you're right in one respect, Honey. They are like roaches; they refuse to die."

Dante nodded as he leaned closer to his wife. "That is their nature," he said. "And all the more reason we should be worried. We caught one group out, who's to say there aren't more?"

Jacob nodded in agreement. As he braced himself back against his night stand, he felt the tickle of cold steel teeth against his calf. He suppressed a shudder. "I don't think they'll be a problem for a few weeks," he said. "Considering the timeline and all that."

Titus and Mira both grimaced as he said that. Dante seemed to go rigid. "Beg pardon?"

Jacob blinked in confusion as he stared at the Blood Angel and his Spartan wife. "Wait..." he turned to look at Titus. "...Do they... do they not know?"

Titus and Mira suddenly seemed to look a little more wounded, and it was wounds that were deeper than flesh. "...No," Titus said with a resigned sigh. "They do not."

The blood in Jacob's face began to drain as he assessed the situation. Dante very clearly noticed this as his voice dropped a note or two in pitch and rose a couple decibels in volume. "What don't we know," he asked calmly, now carrying a dangerous edge to his voice.

Jacob grimaced as he felt his grip on the table increase. "It's... it's about Pyrrha... and other, more macrocosmic-scale matters."

Mrs. Nikos stepped forwards. "What about our daughter," she said with a voice halfway to a threat.

Jacob felt like he had shrunk in on himself, his blood like ice in his veins. He never once imagined having to tell this to Pyrrha's parents, no less that they were both here and that one of them was the Blood Angels' Chapter Master of all things. Even now, his mind was reeling with other questions; Though the geneseed was stripped from him, did the blood of Sanguinius still flow in his veins? And through that, did Pyrrha have blood ties to the 9th Primarch and by extension The Emperor of Mankind himself? Did that make her a demigoddess? Hell, why hadn't it occurred to him to ask the same of Rey and the blood of Rogal Dorn? Was this only a quandary for this world or for other possible alternate realities?

Jacob's brain almost seemed to short circuit as he tried to spit it out. "Well... I... Jesus Christ, how do I... hmmm..."

There was a tired moan across the way. Jacob felt his stomach lurch.

Dante and Mrs. Nikos seemed to have the same reaction. They darted back around the side of the curtains while Jacob elected to cut straight through. He was met with the sight of Pyrrha moving, shifting like she was trying to wake up. Her brow was scrunched as she began to open her eyes, her eyelids fluttering slightly. Another tired moan sounded off.

Jacob was at the side of the bed instantly, quickly joined by Dante across the way. "Pyrrha," he said quietly, worry tinging his tone. "Talk to me, P-Money."

"Easy," Dante warned gently, "she's still waking up."

Emerald jewels appeared from behind her eyelids, first a tiny peak, interrupted by tired blinks. "Mmmmh... hey, Dad... hey... Jacob?"

Jacob let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. "Hey, champ," he said with relieved laugh. "You doing okay?"

She was still caught in a tired haze if the mild scrunch to her brow was any indicator. "Much better than I was. I... I don't remember much of what happened after the Matador... caught up with us. The last thing I remember was... flying... then pain."

Jacob swallowed hard as the image of her flying through the brick wall flashed in his head. "Yeah... you went through the front of a store when it attacked. Never took you for one dense enough to be able to punch a hole through a brick wall with your body."

She smiled sleepily. "Remember who can press bench... sorry, bench press one hundred and fifty pounds and who can bench press eighty."

Jacob rolled his eyes as his attention turned to other things. "How's your head feel?"

Pyrrha's smile became tinged with a grimace. A shaky hand reached up to the bandage. "Like someone is using it for ringing a bell," she said with a serious but humored tone, "but I'll live. But no one's been able to tell me what happened after I blacked out. The last thing I remember seeing was... a splintered support beam, I think?"

Jacob grimaced. "Your... your dad," he said, the word rolling with aggravating difficulty off his tongue. "Your dad saved all three of us."

Pyrrha blinked and turned her head. "Dad... is he telling the truth?"

Dante looked over to Jacob, a look of uncertainty painted across his amber eyes. "Yes... and no," he said after a second, a ghost of a smile on his features. "He failed to mention that he was the one to protect you from the Matador while we were on our way. Took a hole in his shoulder for his troubles."

Pyrrha's gaze turned back to Jacob, a look of tired shock on her face. "You... you took it on all on your own?"

Jacob grimaced hesitantly. "I would say more along the lines of 'desperately held it off and almost fucked up,' in my opinion," he said.

Dante shook his head. "On the contrary. The Xiao Long-Rose sisters said that from what they could see, he was regularly swatting back at it with enough force to make it recoil, all the while hoisting you up on his shoulder."

"Yeah, but we would have been mulched meat piles if you hadn't shown up," Jacob replied.

Dante looked over at him. "Don't downplay yourself, Mr. Muller," he said. "Very few first-years could fight a beast like that and live to tell of it."

Jacob grimaced. "Uh... 'fight' is not the word I would use, though I appreciate your attempts to make me cocky about something," he deadpanned.

Pyrrha giggled, a sound that eased his nerves a smidge. "One of these days, someone needs to teach you how to take a compliment," she said quietly.

Jacob smiled. "When they do, I fear for their sanity; they'll awaken a child's ego that's been buried for a very long time, and for very good reason," he said.

Mrs. Nikos walked up beside her husband, gently taking Pyrrha's hand in hers. At that angle, their physical similarities were all the more evident just by being right next to one another; minus the fact that Pyrrha's hair was brighter and her eyes were green rather than blue, Pandora and Pyrrha looked practically like siblings, with very few traces of Dante's blood evident in her.

 _Wait a minute,_ he thought to himself, _isn't blonde hair supposed to override red hair in the Punnett Squares?_ Right then, a flash of lilac eyes born from bright blue and bright red eyes answered his question in his mind. _Right, right, mixed genes._

"Hey, Honey," Mrs. Nikos said gently. "Did we wake you?"

Pyrrha shook her head and smiled warmly. "No, Mom," she said. "Although... I think I've slept long enough as is."

Jacob suppressed a shudder at just how close their voices were to one another's.

Another series of mumbles started from behind Mrs. Nikos. Jacob saw a blue eye slowly blink awake. "H-huh... ugh... my neck..."

Pyrrha slowly looked over, blinking in surprise. "J... Jaune?" Her cheeks began to turn a bright scarlet color.

Jaune's eyes groggily opened. "Pyrrha... oh my god, Pyrrha!"

He tried to stand up from his chair, only to stop as he righted himself, clutching his head and stumbling a bit. Jacob recognized it all too well as his blood pressure failing to adjust to his sudden change in posture. Dante moved to catch his arm, stopping any chance of falling over. "Easy," he said to Jaune. "You were sleeping with a cocked neck."

"Aughh... explains the pain," Jaune said quietly. "Thank you, sir."

Dante beamed a good-natured smile.

Pyrrha beamed blinked. "Were... were you there... all night?"

Jaune turned to look at her. "Of course," he said hesitantly. "You think I'd let my partner be all alone?"

Jacob smiled and cleared his throat. "Phrasing," he muttered under his breath, only for there to be another feminine moan the next bed over. Jacob straightened himself and began to walk over, his shoulder making him wince with each jabbing twinge that shot through the offending body part. "Wonder who we'll see behind Curtain Number Two..."

He was met with a bandaged and very bruised-looking raven-haired girl with amber-gold eyes being tended to by a tanned, tall man with a handlebar mustache.

For a brief flicker of a moment, Jacob tensed up, His brain flashing the image of a certain Fall Maiden and her ally Watts. Then, the image disappeared as reality came back to him, a pair of flicking cat ears atop her head and the man built like a gangly linebacker with a buzzcut.

"Blake," Jacob breathed as he walked up to her, only to be stopped by an outstretched hand from the man, adorned in a pair of black latex gloves.

"Stand back, young man," he said, looking to him with a pair of hazel eyes. "She's got a broken rib and I am in the middle of a checkup on it."

Jacob obliged, stepping back as he continued to work, only gently waving to Blake. She returned it from a distance, smiling just a smidge. "Hey," she said in a quiet croak.

"Hey, Kitty-Cat," he returned worriedly. "How are you holding up?"

She nodded her head as she replied. "Alright. Aura's already setting a lot of my wounds, I guess. Just these—aaah! Sonuva—!"

"Language, my dear," said the main, his dark grey coat fluttering in the gentle flow of air through the room. "Now... looks like everything's in place now. I'd give you a prognosis of 3 days till you can move again."

Blake sighed. "At least it isn't anything too serious," she said, turning to Jacob. He returned the smile, only for his mind to flash him the image of Adam stabbing her in the gut during the Battle of Beacon.

"Yes, yes," he said quickly and dismissively as he stood back up, Jacob now wondering if he was an Astartes too as he now towered over them. "Until then, you cannot move anything below your shoulders; doctor's orders," he said, "or otherwise the rib might become agitated during your Aura's healing acceleration. After that, take it easy but you should be able to walk around again; you'll be perfectly fine just in time for the Vytal Festival."

She nodded. "Okay... Thank you, Dr. Umbara."

"Not a problem, my dear," he said with a small and polite smile. He turned to where he was facing Jacob, revealing his outfit in full. He was basically dressed not unlike the Medic from _Team Fortress 2_ , albeit the coat in dark grey and the undershirt a bright red color... that was stained with brown splotches that denoted blood.

But what really caught his attention was the bolo tie broach that bore the symbol of the Red Scorpions Chapter.

Jacob blinked hard. _So, he's the Codex Nazi,_ he thought to himself, using his nickname for the Red Scorpions. _He was already uptight just from what I've seen here; I shudder to think of what he generally is like._

"You shouldn't be moving that shoulder," he said with a mild tone of impatience, pointing to Jacob's wound.

Jacob grimaced. "Won't stop me from getting up to check on everyone."

He grimaced slightly and nodded. "Good man. Foolish, but noble." He began to walk past, leaning down to Jacob's side and whispering, "The Emperor would be proud to see a mortal man harbor Astartes diligence."

Jacob looked aside at the Red Scorpion before he rounded the curtain and began speaking to someone else. Another voice, though this one he didn't recognize.

Jacob felt his blood run a smidge colder as he started to realize just how many people were here, wounded in battle by the Breach...

Something he could have prevented.

"Jacob? You okay," Blake asked.

He turned to look at her. "Uh... yeah," he said. "Just thinking about things."

The curtain behind him pulled back, revealing the rest of the group. "Hey, Blake," Jaune said as he wore his usual dopey smile.

"Hey, Vomit Boy," she mumbled. "How are you and Pyrrha doing? Had fun while I was asleep?"

Pyrrha giggled as Jaune snidely and dryly chuckled. "Funny," he said, a bright blush on his face as Dante and Pandora watched him with a look of mild alarm and confusion.

Jacob chuckled as he leaned back and let them talk, watching them talk as he stepped back into the hallway across from Titus and Mira. He shared a smile with them before he found himself looking over the scene...

And then he immediately found himself locking eyes with Mrs. Nikos, who despite sporting a smile of relief was wearing a look of worry in her eyes that even in Volume 2 animation was practically palpable.

 _I guess it's time someone told her,_ he thought to himself. _But... maybe in a little bit._

"Oh, Jacob," Blake said with a giggle, "You might owe your 'Blonde Angels' an apology."

Jacob blinked in confusion as he turned to meet Blake's bemused beaming. Jaune looked over at him with a similar look while Pyrrha joined him in confusion. "Huh?"

Neither said anything, only continuing to stare at him.

It took a few seconds, but Jacob was quick to jump to a conclusion. "Was I on morphine?"

She nodded. "A new dosage right when Yang, Ruby and Weiss were stopping by."

Jacob paled. "Oh, Christ..."

* * *

Even so early in the afternoon as half-past midday, it never hurt to have a cup of coffee on standby. Normally, he would have had cocoa by this point, but he needed as much caffeine as he could afford in his system to keep himself running at full speed. Already his desk was piling up with files and reports, obituaries and letters half-way to completion, schedules being shuffled, motion scans and Atlesian troop reports of their own. In the green glow of his office, the files had a sickly pale color to them that made his stomach turn just enough to be noticeable but not urgent.

He peaked out from behind his glasses at the new feed. Lisa Lavender's report on the attack was confirming the three student fatalities that had transpired. Two from Haven, one from Beacon, all first-years.

Ozpin let out a hollow sigh. "It never gets easier," he said as he overlooked the student's file. He was a good man, young at heart and was an admirable fighter. It was a shame that he got caught out like that, away from the rest of his team when the Raptors found him. What they found remaining made the letter hurt all the more to write, especially considering the glowing recommendations he had been given by his teachers at Signal Academy.

He had left a premiere student at Signal, his parents and little brother throwing him a graduation party in pride. Now, he was returning to them in a sealed casket too small for a whole body... for good reason.

Ozpin sat quietly with the letter in front of him, unsure of what he could say. Considering everything, there had been amazingly few casualties from both law enforcement and Huntsmen, both in-training and actual field agents. But that only made the deaths that did happen sting all the worse.

Nothing to say of the city's population. 106 deaths, 725 casualties in total with 200 more sitting in critical condition in hospitals across the city of Vale.

He pushed his glasses back up his face with a tired sigh. "Our work is never done," he hummed to himself.

The elevator toned.

Ozpin looked up. "Come in."

The door opened to reveal a tall, lithe man with spiky black hair and a dress outfit of a grey shirt, black pants and shoes and—though strange to some—a dark red, tattered cape. He was wobbling just slightly on his feet while he clutched his nose bridge, like he was fighting with an awful smell that was burning his sinuses.

Ozpin suppressed his grimace. "Qrow," he said calmly, though he failed to hide his contempt for the situation at hand. "It's good to see you again."

"Yeah, yeah," Qrow replied with a tone that screamed he had already hit a few drops of whiskey this morning. "Good to see you too, Oz. Sorry I was late, was checking in on my nieces." He stepped inside, a slight stagger to his every step.

Ozpin nodded. "Of course. Are they alright?"

"Yang's hurtin' a bit from one of their claws," he said, "but it's at worst a flesh wound. Ruby's fine... at at least on the surface."

Ozpin's brow rose. "Is she hurt?"

Qrow shot him a look. "Didn't I just say—"

"I mean 'is she emotionally alright,' Qrow."

The dusty birdbrain stared at him for a second with a blank stare before the sentence fully processed in his head. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

Ozpin wasn't buying it. After what Mira and Titus had reported yesterday evening, there were things that she probably would need to discuss with someone in due time.

His Scroll buzzed, alerting him to more breaking news. He looked down to see a news report that stole his thoughts back to the original matter. Another three civilians had been confirmed dead at the Healing Light Hospital in the Residential District. He didn't block the sigh that escaped him.

"More dead," Qrow asked, walking closer.

"Three more. It was the Raptors."

"Fuck... That's what now, over a hundred?"

Ozpin didn't deign to reply. Qrow responded by pulling his flask out and taking a tiny sip from it.

"Right," he finally said as he closed the flask. "Go figure that I come back from my mission in time for a fucking invasion of the city."

"Impeccable timing seems to be a common theme around here as of late," he replied.

"Do we know who all was behind this?"

"Roman Torchwick was confirmed by your niece and her partner to be at the head of the operation, but they have also confirmed that the Eightfold Path had a heavy hand in this."

Qrow visibly blanched. "The Psychopath Brigade? I thought we wiped them out."

"Not as well as we thought," Ozpin said as he sipped from his mug in turn. "We've confirmed some familiar faces. Eliphas the Inheritor is indeed very much alive, for one."

The dusty Huntsman visibly paled. "Gabriel killed him. I saw the blood on his gear..."

"Considering what we face every day," Ozpin replied. "I'm sure it has something to do with magic. Perhaps his sermons caught someone's ear when our backs were turned..."

"Salem."

Ozpin felt a dreadful chill in his bones at that name. Oh, how the emotions behind it were the tempest on a raging, beautiful sea to him. "We can't be sure, but I do have a hunch."

"How do you know it's him? Not some other crazy warrior that snatched up his gear?"

Ozpin grimaced as he activated the holo-projector on his desk. The center of the room was suddenly illuminated by pale blue light that quickly coalesced into a full-color scene that most were familiar with; the entrance lobby of the CCT Tower. There were four figures present in the image; three were Atlesian soldiers, of that there was no doubt by their armor. But the fourth was shrouded in a black, skintight suit, long, black hair cascading down her back. Ozpin hit the play button on the recording and watched as a dark crimson-armored behemoth flew in from the right side of the hologram, slamming into one security guard, ripping apart another and then blasting the upper half of the last one with a large, cylindrical gun with a vented extension to the barrel. The fight lasted all of a few seconds.

Qrow winced on each kill. "Jeez," he said as the legs of the last guard toppled lifelessly to the floor. "It really is him."

"And that's not all," he said, motioning to the woman as she walked up to the crumpled one lying against the wall. She raised her hand and placed it to his brow, looking like she was concentrating on something.

The guard flashed with orange light before his body began to disintegrate into ash.

Qrow's jaw dropped subtly, though still his eyes were wider than dinner plates. "No..."

Ozpin sighed. "It is exactly as I feared," he said with a dreary, almost- exhausted tone. "Amber's attacker is working with them."

Qrow stepped forwards through the hologram of Eliphas. "What were they doing at the Tower," he asked, his voice low with tension and a bone-chilling worry etched into every syllable. "Do they know about—"

"No," Ozpin replied as he stood up carefully and walked towards Qrow, the tire from the day's events still lingering on him. "They took the elevator upstairs to the main CCT lobby. They would have killed many more had Ironwood's protégé not been there to stop their advance."

Qrow cocked a brow in confusion. "Hell of a student to be able to fight both of them off."

Ozpin nodded as his mind thought back to the footage. The girl he had met on one or two occasions in the last few months, and she seemed to carry the emotional maturity of a young child. Yet she had fought both of them off with the precision and skill belonging to a veteran Huntress, her strange weaponry deftly maneuvered as if a marionette moving her own strings. It was almost mechanical in her efficiency.

Ozpin grimaced at that thought. _I sincerely hope he didn't go that way with his robotics division,_ he thought to himself. _Too many ethical questions to consider for a time like this._

"Okay then," Qrow said as he flopped down on the couch off to the side. "Now considering the fact I've been out in the field for the last four months, and there have clearly been some lineup changes... let's start from the beginning. The older kid."

"Right. Mr. Muller."

"Yeah. My nieces seem pretty attached to him; all things considered." He swung his feet around and lounged back, his shoes just missing the edge of the armrest and hanging over, sparing the antique Mantlean felt from the dirt on his shoes. "Still, that begs the question; why in the Menagerie-fried hell is he in this school when he's almost senior age... and pretty obviously not even trained in basics?"

"Because he is aware of Salem's existence."

Qrow paled and spat a sip of his drink onto the glass window. "Sa— _cough_ —ay that again, Oz," he choked out through a fit of coughing.

"According to him," Ozpin began, offering the Huntsman a handkerchief, "He met Amber a while back during her travels, and he earned her trust enough to get her to spill our secret."

Qrow blanched. "That sounds nothing like Amber," he replied. "He's lying to you guys."

"Exactly my thoughts," he said, "Though Glynda has spent enough time with him now that she thinks he could possibly be telling the truth; he has that kind of personality that makes it easy for lips to be loosened, according to her."

"Amber could get drunk and never spill a single syllable," Qrow replied, jumping to his feet. "I should know!"

Ozpin rose his eyebrow in dry and silent judgement. Qrow never took it back.

"Your point is valid," he said with a nod and another sip of his drink. "Amber's lips were—for lack of a better phrase—welded shut to any outsiders. And yet, I can't help but feel he is telling the truth... and yet not."

The elevator dinged and opened, revealing Ironwood and Glynda standing at the ready. Ozpin noticed a few stray hairs off-kilter on Glynda's brow and Ironwood's collar was a bit ruffled, though they quickly straightened them out. "That isn't a comforting observation, Oz," said Ironwood as he stepped forwards.

 _Good to see the old embers refusing to die,_ Ozpin thought to himself. "James, Glynda. I take it you heard us?"

"It's not hard," she said, considering Qrow accidentally pushed 'Conference call' on his Scroll."

Qrow blinked in confusion before he reached into his back pocket and looked down at his Scroll. Sure enough, he had been broadcasting to them for several minutes; it probably had been activated when Qrow flopped down on the couch.

"Remind me to turn this thing off when I come up here," Qrow groaned as he waggled the machine in front of himself in emphasis.

"As much as I hate to admit it," Glynda said with a sigh, "He seems... too knowledgeable about things. He's been at the docks, the overpass and the bomb attack... and now he was on the train that opened up the crater."

"Regardless of the fact Team RWBY has also frequently been a part of these incidents," James added, "He has been there four out of four times. It raises some alarms, suffice it to say."

"You're not wrong, James. But I think the reason is less malicious than our first instinct," Ozpin replied. "I think he's just habitually... in the wrong place at the right time."

Qrow folded his arms in unison with Ironwood. "And yet...?"

Ozpin sighed dejectedly. "...and yet I can't rule it out. But regardless... we should focus on more important things than one boy with an uncanny sense of timing. James," he asked, "Have you heard any more from the Council—either of our national Councils, that is?"

"I have," he said with a grimace. "The Atlesian Council and the Council of Vale has given me clearance to deploy martial forces from the 14th, 29th, 33rd and 407th Battalions along the border of Vale, as well as bring in the 5th, 6th, 7th and 9th Aeronautics Wings to patrol the skies over the region."

Glynda's pallor became like bed sheets. "That's over two-thousand Atlesian soldiers deployed," she calculated.

"Two thousand, one-hundred and seventy-six Atlesian soldiers and airmen ready to serve and keep the people safe."

Qrow's brows knit together angrily. "You really are going crazy," he said quietly.

Ironwood turned to look at him. "After what happened today, we can't take risks."

"And that entails bringing in an army the size of the one that conquered Icewrack in a single week?"

"If it keeps the people safe... then we have no choice, Qrow."

Ozpin grimaced. _I've heard that bravado far too often... how many wars has it started since I began this war of my own?_

"Jimmy," Qrow said, "Nothing we have compares to the stuff I've been scouting out over the last few months; oh yeah, remember that? I didn't hear a peep out of you guys for the better half of three months."

"You were supposed to be the one to radio in in the first place," Ironwood retaliated.

"Communications a two-way street, Jimmy!" He lifted his Scroll up to Ironwood's face. "See this? That's the ' _send'_ button!"

Glynda stepped in between them. "Enough out of both of you! Qrow, you need to back off."

"Oh, back off, huh?! Glynda, if you saw half the things I saw out there, you'd be with me on this one without question. See, out there... she's been building her forces... in more ways than one."

"New Grimm?"

"More than that. You've probably noticed her little alliance she's made with those freaks."

"We've noticed," Ironwood deadpanned. "The Eightfold Path has been telegraphing it vehemently."

"We were dead wrong about it being just now, or at the very least she's been working with another sect of theirs more frequently" he said. "I had a couple choice encounters with them out there... especially the big armored ones with the crazy gear and skills that make most of us here look like chumps." He pulled his sleeve up, revealing a long and jagged cut up his arm, now healing but still looking angry and deep.

Glynda gasped. "What happened!?"

"One of them in black and gold armor had a big-ass chainsaw-sword that they swiped at me with. They managed to carve my Aura away entirely on more than one occasion."

Ozpin felt the blood rush from his face. Qrow was the owner of a Level Seven Aura, only coming just shy of the likes of himself, Mr. Xiao Long, Mr. Grimnar and both Nikoses. Coupled with his time in the field... just what kind of foe was he facing from the Eightfold Path to carve his Aura away with such ease?

 _But another chain-sword,_ he thought to himself. _Those are becoming far too common for my taste._

Ironwood stepped forwards. " _This_ is why I'm stepping up defenses so much," he said, pointing to the scar.

"Well, it won't be enough. She's been working with them long enough now that I actively saw several of them _commanding Grimm_ out in the frontier territories in Mistral."

Ozpin's brow shot up in surprise. "You're certain?"

Qrow nodded. "Big ones, lots of Saurians too. And the guys leading them aren't showing any sense of fear around the Grimm, either. It was enough to give me the goosebumps."

All three of the other Inquisition members shared looks with one another, Ironwood's dripping with a fierceness that Ozpin recognized too well.

"Then this threat is greater than I could have imagined," James said quietly. "My first instinct would have been to cancel the Festival if this had been happening earlier. Now... we don't have much of a choice."

Ozpin nodded in quiet contemplation. "Indeed," he said, "To cancel it would incite too much fear; and we all know what that will draw."

All three of them nodded.

There was a tense silence before Ozpin eventually sighed. "Even now, there is a rising tension in the air," he said quietly as he turned to return to his desk. "The city will reel from this, there can be no doubt about it; and neither can there be any doubt that we will see a resurgence of cooperation and unity in the aftermath. But what will the arrival of such a force do to such a rising unity?"

None of them gave him an answer. Even Ironwood he figured would have stood up for his original idea, but now he was uncharacteristically mute.

Ozpin sighed again. He felt so tired of this all at times... how he wished he could take it all back at some times. How often had his bones ached and his body feel less than useful; how often had he noticed the encroachment of white hair on his head; how long had he watched the rise and fall of nations? All of it began to blend at times, and no small comfort could be taken from that.

"Dismissed," he said tiredly. "There is a city that needs our help. We should tend to it."

Ironwood and Glynda nodded before they turned to the elevators. Qrow remained where he was, his eyes trained on Ozpin with worry.

"Something else you wanted to talk about, Qrow?"

He grimaced. Ozpin had a good idea what it was on his mind. "It's... I hate to ask, but... how's Amber."

Ozpin nodded quietly. "She's been stable as of late," he said as he returned to his desk, tenting his fingers in quiet contemplation. "But her overall status has continued to drop off. It's only a matter of time."

Qrow looked as if he was a scolded schoolboy, his gaze drawn to the floor beneath him. "How long are we thinking?"

Ozpin sighed. "Qrow—"

" _How long_ ," he said, his voice hard with a frustration that tinged his every syllable.

Ozpin sighed as he looked down at his desk for a moment, trying to come up with the best way to answer. Finally, he looked up.

"With how she is right now," he said, every word heavy with caution and tinted in melancholy, "We need to find her successor... in the next two months."

He stood again, reaching down beneath his desk to reveal several large folders in his hand before he gently placed them on his desk.

"And I think I have some candidates in mind."

* * *

The silence was colder than the grave. It chilled his very heart just to not hear anything as he sat in quiet contemplation.

He looked up into the light of the Mira and Titus' hotel room, squinting as his eyes ached from the sudden light input. It was a miracle he was even here, now that he thought about it, considering he had woken up in the infirmary that morning. He honestly didn't know if he was being stupidly lucky or he was slowly becoming more hell-for-stout than he had been when he had first arrived, but he wouldn't deny the trip back here of all places would make him hurt so much. Fortunately, this part of Vale hadn't been hit hard by the Breach, Atlesian soldiers and more veteran Huntsmen quelling the fighting with ease as the rest of the city slowly fought them back. A few Grimm had escaped into the city but by now had been killed and the city made secure again, with hodge-podge construction crews desperately filling in the craters to block any other Grimm from entering. Cops and soldiers had surged forwards with what could basically amount to SWAT gear on top of their robotic aides. But still that initial terror hung in the air above the city like a thick blanket, threatening to smother it in a sea of black skin, red eyes and white bone... as well as other things beyond the comprehension of the average citizen of Vale.

The room was dead silent around them as over a dozen people sat in various states of contemplation, terror, anger and resolve. Many of them had their eyes glued to a large TV screen in the room, while others had taken to their feet, pacing in worry and fury as they watched in stony silence. The TV—technically a _Holo-screen,_ but Jacob wasn't going to argue semantics—hidden inside of a cabinet like most hotel rooms seemed to do. The screen showed only stationary credits at the moment, though there was a blue bar on the side that showed the pause sign also in white.

He drew his gaze aside to the others in the room, slowly watching them as they processed what he had seen many times over now for the first time in their lives. The Lysanders were sitting on the couch in front of the screen a fuming kettle waiting to go off at the slightest touch, outrage burnt across their faces with white-hot scowls; Cain stared into the wall in morbid thought from his spot next to the table, his face downcast and macabre in its tone; Gabriel's face was contorted into an angry snarl, his finger drumming on his arm as he leaned on one of the support columns of the room. Vulkan had turned his back on the screen, his eyes scanning the carpet below him as he paced in front of the loveseat next to the Lysanders' couch, a seething Titus and Mira sitting across from him in the loveseat on the other flank. The Great Wolf sat beside Jacob, a glass of gin in his hand as he gently swished it about in his hand, letting the clinking of glass act as his voice. At his side, the great axe Morkai glowed an angry, Khornate magma-red.

 **SLAM!**

Jacob felt himself jump on instinct, the sensation of a seat under his ass leaving him as he found himself getting a few inches off the barstool he was sitting on. He was already fighting a sickly stomach ache and and a throbbing shoulder, but the sudden startle made his belly feel like it was about to leave his mouth and do the Can-Can on the table in front of him. His mug of tea sloshed in his hands and dropped a good-sized dollop on his arm that scalded and stung with angry heat. The stool underneath him wobbled worryingly as he rocked a bit on it before he managed to right himself, gripping his left arm where the spill had made impact as he moved to gently set the cup down with his left hand. Shakily, he drew his gaze upwards, already predicting what he would see.

A crack began to form in the wooden table where the fist had made impact. Jacob found himself swallowing hard, the crack tracing a scattered and sharp line all the way back to its origin beneath a fist the size of both of his combined. Said fist was attached to the arm of a very angry and very powerful Space Marine, his whole arm tensed and looking as if the musculature inside would burst loose and shred anything close to ribbons. He followed it up towards his face, terror gripping him in worry. He dared to make eye contact.

He was met with amber eyes full of a rage that burned just to stare at. Jacob felt the blood rush from his face, his brow now feeling cold with terror. Yet despite this, his face was not contorted in a vicious and bloodthirsty sneer worthy of the Black Rage; rather it was calm but furious, his face showing the ghost of an angry scowl beneath a face showing a mind running and a hundred miles an hour.

Next to his other hand sat the Steelbox, finally seeing use after 6 months of collecting dust inside Jacob's safe.

The disk that held Volume 3 wasn't inside.

"...Chapter Master?"

Dante made no remark, his breathing labored with fury. Beside him, Pandora looked on, her pallor like the dead and her eyes wide with the terror only a mother could know. It made Jacob's bones feel like ice.

"...Sir?"

The Blood Angel's gaze turned to Jacob, his anger palpable. The anger did not seem focused on Jacob, so much as Jacob was in the path of the glare. "Please tell me this is a lie," he whispered angrily, a tone of fury and worry to his every syllable that made Jacob's stomach flip in terror.

"...I want to make it a lie," Jacob said cautiously, dropping his voice low in solemnness.

Pandora seemed to be at a loss as she stood beside Dante, her face seeming to vacillate between horror and anger, her eyes darting about with the speed of a jumping bean on crack-cocaine. "Pyrrha," she croaked out, her voice brimming with some mixture of emotions.

"That was... more harrowing than I thought it could be," Vulkan said as he stopped pacing for a few moments. "I wasn't as ready to view that as I had assumed I would be."

"Considering this is someone we know to be alive at the moment," Cain added as he scratched his 5-o'-clock shadow, "That would explain the cognitive dissonance we're experiencing right now."

Titus and Mira sat in stony quiet as the Lysanders slowly began to boil over. Rey stood up and turned, vaulting over the couch and walking to Pandora. The two embraced in a worry-fueled hug that only made Jacob feel all the worse.

Dante slowly rose back to his full height, the moniker of "Angel of Death" feeling more and more apt with each passing moment. "We need to speak to Ozpin about all of this. _Right now."_

Jacob felt his heart clench in worry. "We can't," he said quietly. "Not without risking other things father down the road."

Dante eyed him like he had said 'Fuck Sanguinius' directly to his face. "I will not condemn my daughter to death," he growled angrily, his voice making Jacob think of Elrond again.

"An neither will I," Jacob said, "but we threaten everybody else's lives too by way of contingents."

Dante glared menacingly at him.

"Hear him out, Dante," Titus added. "His reasoning is... not the absolute most sound, but it does come from a reasonable place."

The Blood Angel's head snapped aside to stare at the Ultramarine in bewilderment as his wife continued to embrace Delia. "Titus, you can't be serious."

"I am," he said as he stood upright, a hand reaching down to take Mira's as she quickly joined him.

Jacob swallowed hard in worry as he prepared to talk. "Please, Chapter Master," he said, quietly, "just... listen."

The Blood Angel seemed to seethe internally, only to let out a hard breath as he turned back. "Very well, then; why shouldn't we go to Ozpin this very moment?"

"Because we don't know if there were—or frankly still are—any additional contingents that they may pull... and the consequences of it," he said. "And the more we can predict what's about to happen, the more we can change things in our favor; not necessarily big changes, but slights of hand to load the dice in our favor."

Dante glared at the floor in contemplation, eyes like burning coals. "I do not consider that a worthwhile exchange considering the threat on my daughter's life."

Jacob grimaced in annoyance. "If we tell Ozpin," he added, "that element of premonition becomes moot and useless, and we stumble blindly towards what happens from there. And you know as well as I do that there are _other_ threats to Pyrrha... far more _esoteric_ dangers."

Dante looked up at the same time as Pandora did. "The transfer, you mean," he said. "I doubt it would do as they were afraid it would."

"And what happens if it does? What happens if Pyrrha is erased as Amber basically possesses her like some... some accidental facsimile of a Warp daemon?"

That sentence made Dante bristle, as well as several of the Imperials as well; Jacob had to assume it was the comment about the daemon.

"And what if you fail?"

Jacob winced at Pandora's comment, so full of contempt and fear at the same time as she broke from Delia's hold and turned to face him with furrowed brows.

"What if my baby girl doesn't... doesn't come out with the rest of them?" The hurt in her voice was palpable, a fury and urgency rising to it that sounded almost exactly like her husband's. Jacob's heart panged angrily at her glare. "What then?"

Jacob stood up with slow urgency. "That won't happen," he said. "I'd sooner put myself in front of the arrow."

Cain stepped up beside the two other Imperials. "Let's not jump the gorge just yet," he said to all three of them. "We still have until the Vytal Festival to prepare ourselves and be ready to make every move we can."

"Yes, but we're forgetting," added Gabriel as he righted himself from leaning on the wall, "who wasn't present in that version of this reality? Who can throw a monkey-wrench in everything just by being there?"

Jacob sighed. "Chaos."

Gabriel grimaced and nodded.

Cain shrugged. "So? We've dealt with them at their worst countless times before; all of us! It is the traitors who should fear us!"

"That means little if we don't know if their plan is the exact same as we saw on that disc to be Salem's and Cinder's," Vulkan replied. "Too many new variables to consider, including ourselves and what effect we'll have on the outcome."

"But we know enough now to make an effective counterstrike," replied Luce. "I suggest we form one and put it into action immediately."

"I agree, a proactive method will yield the best results," Logan added as he downed the last bit of gin and with his other hand lightly tapped Morkai on the floor in solidarity.

From his corner opposite to all of them, The Storm Warden Anders nodded in agreement. "Litanies of Battle, verse 20-5; 'Yield not to the enemy's movement, but make them quail and submit to your force's advances. Then your victory is all but assured.'"

The two other newcomers only nodded quietly, though the Red Scorpion continued to jot down notes quietly.

Titus sighed. "So it seems... we're all in agreement, then."

Dante looked around the room, the confusion and outrage practically palpable on his face. "You cannot be serious..."

"Refresh my memory, Dante," said Sugodai as he brushed his fu manchu with his fingers, "Who again kept his habits of Premonition?"

Jacob blanched at that. _Premonition? But... Dante wasn't psychic... was he?_

He watched as the Blood Angel seemed to stop, a sigh escaping him. "Do not go there, Librarian. This is different."

"How? This is no different, frankly," added Cain.

Dante attempted to rebut this, but the sentence never even seemed to leave his mind. His brow dropped in thought. "You know as well as I that Ozpin can keep secrets... he is far better at playing the long game than even the eldest of us."

Jacob cocked his brow in confusion. "By that you mean you, right, Mr. 'Millennium and a Half Years Old'?"

The annoyed glance from Dante was met with Jacob shrugging defensively. "Sorry," he replied to the Blood Angel.

Dante turned to begin pacing, only for Titus to walk up and grab him by the shoulder. "Dante," he said firmly. "Listen... I didn't like this idea when I first heard it myself. Frankly, part of me still doesn't entirely like this sneaking about when Pyrrha's life and the life of others as well are at stake. And yet... isn't that already what we decided we would do the moment we took the oath of the Inquisition?"

Jacob watched the two titans with a mild elation and terror in his veins, one that was only enhanced as a mass of muscle on his left stood up and joined them. "Aye," said Logan, "And as much as I am not a father, I get your panic. But... maybe we would be all the wiser playing this to our advantage."

Dante stared at the Great Wolf for a good minute before he turned to look back at his wife. Jacob sat in quiet worry as he watched the two seemingly speak without a single syllable being uttered, tiny changes in their eyes and their expressions that for a brief moment made Jacob double take as they were still rendered in Volume 2 animation. Surreal didn't begin to describe it.

After a good long minute, the two seemed to break the spell they had cast over one another, the rest of the room in steely silence.

"Alright," Dante said in a tone so quiet a whisper was like a hurricane by comparison. The two parents of Pyrrha Nikos looked slowly towards him, their eyes alight with a fire that Jacob could only describe as 'warlike' as far as he was concerned. "What do we need to do to ensure my daughter's safety?"

Jacob felt his chest depress as a breath left his lungs. "For now, we should focus on counteracting Cinder's upcoming plans, or at the very least cushioning their blows; Slowly leak information to the parties directly at the center of battle for one thing, I.E. give Yang a five-alarm 'heads up' in the event things go as they did in the show and she duels Mercury. Obviously, we can't say it outright, but since I'm so close to them I can negate that and keep Cinder's Team engaged in the festival. If they pull the trigger early, they'll be off-kilter, so I doubt they would do so, but there is that chance. But she'll also have a harder time getting free without security or other Huntsmen—us, rather—giving her a Dust shell colonoscopy."

A couple chuckles from the other Astartes in the room retorted. Dante and Pandora nodded in unison, the Huntress' face still tinged with worry.

"But the more important part for a lot of us is Pyrrha herself," Jacob added as he stood up and began pacing. "She's a big key in all of this; When and if the Invasion begins, she'll be on the front line before Ozpin needs her to do the transfer; question is, can we risk Amber's powers getting transferred?"

Dante stepped forwards instinctively. "The Fall Maiden's powers cannot be allowed to fall into Cinder's hands," he said, "but I cannot willingly risk our daughter's safety. It will paint too big of a target on her back."

"But... it has to be her decision too," Jacob said. "We are too vehement about her not doing it and we risk being found out if Ironwood or Oz get suspicious."

"Okay, let's skip that hypothetical," said Logan, raising his hand to stop their conversation. "What is our actual plan if she does take the powers?"

Jacob grimaced as he stopped pacing. "If she remains the same, we rush her out of here before Cinder can even say 'halt!' and we... I don't know, carpet-bomb the structure if we can with the Valkyrie. It will kill international communications, but it will halt any of their operations. Besides, with some effort I can imagine we could jerry-rig something together as a proxy for the tower."

"And the Dragon," Vulkan asked.

"Again, I refer you back to the Valkyrie Gunship. It's no Stormraven or Thunderhawk, but I'd wager it can get the job done."

Cain rose his eyebrow. "I hate to break it to you, but outside of against other vehicles, the Valkyrie is not as good as you many think; it's meant to be more of a flying bus for Guardsmen than anything else. Now, if it was a Vendetta, then we'd be in business, though we'd also have the problem of the fact that the guns are retrofitted for Dust ammunition now."

Jacob swallowed hard. "The lascannon?"

"That's the exception," Mira added, "but it only has a few charges left in it. We've been hesitant to use it."

"Now would be the time to start getting it ready," Jacob said. "Heavy bolters?"

Titus shook his head. "Destroyed about ten years ago when we were sent to hunt down a murder of Nervermores raiding the coastline east of Argus. We've yet to have them fixed out of fear of the Machine Spirits acting out against us."

"Damn. What's the missile options for it?"

"Rocket pods."

Jacob smiled. "I thought those looked like multi-rocket salvos on the underside of the wings. What kind of missiles now?"

"Fire and Electricity Dust missiles, make the best explosions."

Jacob nodded. "Perfect, options for swarms and then something for the big guy."

"What about the Silver Eyes," Vulkan added. "We know it will contain the Grimm; could we perhaps put that to use?"

Jacob grimaced and shook his head. "It would only put Ruby in more danger—Pyrrha's death triggered it, remember? If we're stopping that, then her Silver Eyes won't trigger and do... whatever the fuck they do. Seriously, even I'm lost on the Sliver Eyes thing and what they do." About then a thought peaked out from his mind. "You guys know anything about that, considering at least some of you knew Summer?"

Jacob was surprised to see all of them shake their heads, even Vulkan. Though, as he did it, Jacob seemed to notice an unusual hesitance to the action...

"I would still agree with Dante," came the Mongolian-accented voice of the White Scar Stormseer. "It is the best course of action that we inform the rest of the Inquisition about what is to happen; we can prepare far better, and prevent the school from falling to ruin! If anything, that is more important!"

Jacob wheeled on the spot, though he wasn't contemptuous about the matter. "The school is our secondary objective when compared to Pyrrha and the Maidens," he said, "at least as far as I'm concerned. I know there's the fact of the CCT Tower—which I still lament is an incredibly short-sighted idea on Remnant's part—but I'm more concerned with Cinder going after Amber, and by extension Pyrrha. Besides... it's their Call to Action."

All of the Imperials turned to look at him in confusion, with even Pandora giving him a cocked eyebrow of confusion.

Jacob sighed. "It didn't occur to you guys that the fact that they're the center focus of the show would indicate their importance in the long game, right?"

Dante and TItus' gazes turned to look at one another while the rest of the Imperials continued to watch.

A grimaced covered Jacob's face. "The fact that they—or at the very least that Ruby—is the show's protagonist means the long game, if one considers how most show plots of this magnitude go, ends with, at bare minimum, Ruby facing off against Salem, right?"

Silence held for a few moments. "Well, he's not wrong," Cain said under his breath.

"But the Tower's destruction and... and Pyrrha's death send her off with Pyrrha's team to find out the truth."

"But I have to be the one to say it, this is real life; how do we know that would stay the case here," Gabriel added as he joined them, the walking wall of muscle giving Jacob a look that was less contemptuous and more contemplatively angry.

Jacob shrugged. "The fact that events have stayed almost exact barring some changes in the sequence of events and the severity of events is definitely something I'm counting on," he said. "The Breach, the fight with Roman; hell, everything up to me realizing who you guys were, well, was spot-on with the original timeline, like as if things were staying homogenous; ergo, I have to presume that at least some aspects will remain the case if we stick to our guns and play all of the other cards."

Silence filled the room as his words sunk in, most of the Imperials giving him sideways glances that screamed of hesitation. For a brief moment, Jacob wondered if his story would come to an end with him dying at the hands of The Emperor's finest.

"You... want us... to forsake the city and potentially the people in it," the Red Scorpion said quietly near the back of the room.

Dante and Pandora's gazes met the hardwood floor in downtrodden contemplation. Jacob didn't deny that there was good reason for that reaction, considering the oaths they had taken. Hell, in all honesty all of them were now seemingly contemplating this same issue, gazes now lost a hundred yards away and small pacing paths now being made.

"No," Jacob said quietly. "Perhaps not all of us, now that I think more about it."

"Meaning," asked Logan.

"Divide and conquer comes to mind. The Fall of Beacon is the key event to get the ball rolling on Salem's defeat—at least if we follow the conventions of the usual 'save the world' routine and all of that—but that doesn't mean that we have to forsake everyone for it."

"What he's suggestin' is we focus on damage control as well as the rescue operation," said Anders as he walked past the group and into the kitchen, pulling out a glass bottle filled with a reddish-brown drink. He began to pour into a juice glass as he continued. "The half of us what care about Ms. Nikos and the Fall Maiden focus on keepin' them safe, whilst the rest of us put our efforts into shoring up the defenses around the city and be ready to strike the moment the shit goes sky-bound."

Jacob nodded. "Exactly as the good Chaplain said."

The contemplative silence returned, only this time the room felt far less downtrodden.

Anders chuckled under his breath. "Well, I'd say that kills two birds with one stone, doesn't it? We can put things on the right path and still cushion the blow, as it were. Almost Tzeentchian in its manipulation, but I can't pretend that it isn't a good idea."

"I agree with that sentiment," Vulkan said as he looked up and nodded. "We have taken our oaths as Huntsmen to protect the people of Remnant at all costs, and our oaths as Astartes, Guardsmen and Inquisitors means the very same to us."

Jacob nodded. "We should probably divvy up teams in that case," he said he began to pace. "I'm thinking... well, we should be honest with ourselves here on who finds what more important."

All three Lysanders stood up in unison, Luce tapping her crozius on the floor, no doubt to the annoyance of the people below their room. "We would be remiss to not aid in both operations," she said, "But I don't know if we are of any help towards her protection."

Delia stepped forwards. "I want to help on that end," she said, pulling her shield from her back and beating her fist against it. She turned to her parents and said, "You guys can focus on gearing up for the city."

Jacob nodded and smirked. "I doubt anyone will be able to stop you, so by proxy I predict success on our end," he said with a tone of dry humor.

Titus and Mira walked up beside him. "We've come this far," the Ultramarine said, "We're not going anywhere without our goddaughter's safety assured."

Jacob again nodded thankfully. "Courage and honor, Captain."

Slowly, the teams began to form, though ultimately it was clear how lop-sided it would be; Most of the Imperials present opted to focus on protecting the people rather than Pyrrha, a choice that Jacob was happy to see being picked so frequently despite his own goals. The ones who ultimately joined the "Save Pyrrha" group, though, did not hesitate to make it their priority; by the end, Delia, Titus, Mira and Anders stood firmly beside him, already drawing up ideas to go about their hodge-podge plan. Across the way, the rest of the Imperials were already drumming up full plans, drawing out maps and assessing districts of Vale to identify where best to form contingencies and safe havens for citizens caught out in the ensuing chaos.

Jacob grimaced in self-aggravation. _I am such an asshole,_ he thought to himself, his mind conjuring the images of fleeing citizens that he could spare just by opening his mouth. Or perhaps they weren't able to be saved in the long-run; perhaps fate would kill them with another invasion

A feeling of being watched prickled the back of his mind. He turned and was met with the gaze of The Nikoses, watching him carefully.

He swallowed hard and stepped closer to them. "I know it's a lot to take in," he said quietly, "and you guys don't have the month's advantage of everyone else to get accustomed to this. But I swear—"

Pandora stepped closer, grabbing his hands tightly as only a mother would; her grip practically crushed his hands with palpable worry. "Please," she said, a concerned fury to her voice. "Don't bother with platitudes for our sake. Just save our baby girl..."

Dante stood in stony silence, the millennia-old man staring at him with the eyes of a desperate and angry man. It seared Jacob's soul just to make eye contact.

Jacob swallowed a hard lump in the back of his throat. "I'll die in her place if I must," he said, his mouth acting before his brain got the chance. "Pyrrha's walking away from Beacon, even if I have to die in her place. I swear it."

* * *

"I swear, it has to be here somewhere..."

"Calm down, Em. They're bound to come through any minute now."

"I know, but... we've been waiting to crack these codes all day. I'm just worried someone's going to be on to us if we stick around in this system for too long."

A smirk across her lips. "Have faith in Dr. Watts' toy, Emerald. He _was_ quite meticulous in its creation, after all."

As if on cue, a series of mechanical chirps. A light flashed green as Emerald's hair.

"Just as I predicted," Cinder said.

Okay then, we're actually in...Let's see... command codes... weapons schematics... combat orders... where is the top-secret stuff?"

Cinder chuckled under her breath as she watched Emerald greedily file through the information streaming to them. From over her ebony-skinned agent's shoulder, she could see a myriad of data files stream onto her tablet Scroll, filing through as override codes broke firewalls like a bull in a china shop. The brightness of the files shone with stark contrast against the dimness of the night. It was almost overwhelming to her eyes.

What light did shine outside proudly displayed the unintentional handiwork of the previous day, bathing the night sky in tints of orange and yellow as gas lines continued to burn despite the best efforts of the Vale Fire Department. Sirens wailed like ghosts on the wind, hauling White Fang members and Chaos Cultists away in chains, reports already coming in that the main Police Department jails had filled up and were forcing new arrests to other auxiliary stations.

To anyone else, this was a crushing defeat. But to Cinder, it was taking a cut across the arm so she might split her opponent's skull; a wound to ensure a victory.

"Come on, Em," groaned Mercury from his bed, "that stuff can wait. I'd rather not have Atlas find us out and be banging on the door a minute later."

Emerald scoffed loudly. "You can sleep all you want," she said, "But I wanna know every juicy bit of intelligence I can get my hands on."

Cinder smiled as she watched them bicker, sauntering up to Emerald's side. "Anything juicy yet?"

"A couple things. That girl that fought you? She's a prototype Atlesian Combat AI," she said as she leaned over to let Cinder see. Sure enough, there was what looked like a cross-section of the girl, revealing cybernetics across her whole body. From head to toe she bore metal and wires rather than flesh and bone, not organs not even of a facsimile to anything real people had.

"A pretend Huntress," Cinder hummed quietly to herself. "How quaint."

"And here's the best part," she said. "She's got a separate security network, but she's working off a similar program to the Paladins. It's all from this 'Project Dreadnought' mainframe."

Cinder smiled bemusedly. "How intriguing. Can it be accessed?"

"No idea," Emerald said, "but I think it's worth a try."

Cinder nodded. "Then do it."

A nod set Emerald to work as Cinder's Scroll buzzed at her side. She picked it up. The number was an unlisted number, though she recognized it too well.

She walked towards the back wall and answered with a sigh. "This had better be good, Tyrian."

A psychotic cackle answered her on the other side. _"Oh? You sound so delighted to hear from me,"_ he replied.

"Watts' virus is working as he projected it to," she said with a smile. "Despite the hiccup in the plan."

" _So we noticed. That was too risky for Her Grace's plans, Cinder."_

"Don't worry your pretty little head over it," she said sarcastically. "We have a backup plan already in the works. Not to mention our chaff in the White Fang are now safely in our camp."

" _Be that as it may,"_ the psychopath replied, _"I am not calling on my behalf,"_ he said, his voice taking a reverent tone.

Cinder's smile dropped. "Oh?"

"I call on His Lordship's behalf."

" _ **Indeed."**_

Cinder's throat caught the next words before they could even form. "My Liege," she said with the tiniest falter to her tone, feeling the urge already to drop to a knee despite him not even being present. She noticed Emerald and Mercury turn to look at her.

Even through the pathetic speaker on the Scroll, she could hear the gravelly tone he gave off, rough and powerful like a mountain and yet bearing a sharpened edge like so many razor blades. Even after so long, it made her feel his might. _**"You sound so nervous to speak to me, Cinder. Has your failure with the initial plan shaken you that much beneath your mask your heart quakes with cowardice?"**_

That set something off in the back of her mind; he always knew just what to say. "No, sir," she reaffirmed harshly. "The plan was never a certainty... as are all plans made by mortals."

A bemused chuckle that sounded like a revving engine. _ **"And you made that change work to your designs. Excellent; I see my training has rubbed off on you."**_

She smiled, only faintly but enough that she could feel it on her cheeks.

" _ **And yet... you hesitate."**_

Cinder's smile dropped off. "Yes... it was the same brats who stopped Roman's heist that instigated this. As well as that one member of Ozpin's little cabal."

A low rumble, this one contemplative. _**"Curious. They seem to be a regular thorn in your side... What forces consipre against us, I must wonder."**_ A brief pause, though she could imagine his face, etched with thought and age. _**"No matter. Our work is almost ready to begin."**_

She nodded and hummed in agreement. "Our associates in the Eightfold Path have been quite a boon for our operations," she said as she thought back to Eliphas' massacre of the guards.

" _ **They all have their uses,"**_ he replied, _**"And I have worked with some of them in the past. Do they know yet who I am?"**_

"No," she replied. "I don't think so. None of them seem to have had an inkling of revelation."

" _Good. The less they know for now, the better."_

Cinder blinked in surprise. "Your Grace?"

" _I must say, Cinder,"_ came the sultry voice of her other mentor, _"You have done an excellent job so far. But don't rest on your laurels yet; our greatest work is yet to be done."_

Cinder grimaced in understanding. "Watts' virus will find her soon enough," she replied.

" _Don't let your ambitions cloud your judgement,"_ Salem replied. " _Remember what it is that we are truly after. The Maiden powers are but the key."_

"I understand," she said. "We'll find it soon enough, and the White Fang's activities will draw Ozpin's eye away from us long enough for us to crack their cyphers."

" _Do not underestimate Ozpin, Cinder,"_ warned Salem. _"He is more powerful than you give him credit for... and far more knowledgeable than you would expect."_

Cinder smiled as she rattled that sentence around in her head. "I doubt he will ever see us coming," she said as she reached deep into her soul and dragged the Maiden powers forth, the energy kicking and screaming in futile but ferocious resistance. She felt the flames dance from her palm as they slowly formed a pyre, only for the flame to levitate and begin to shift in form. Soon, an eight-pointed star of fire danced mesmerizingly in her palm.

"From shame and shadow, are we recast..."

* * *

 **And the ever-present sense of dread continues to build. Ain't I a stinker?**

 **Next time, we meet Taiyang, Ruby and Pyrrha hang out, Weiss slaps while Yang kisses, and Khârn the Betrayer inducts some White Fang into the ranks of Khorne.**

 **Wait, what was that last part?**

 **As usual, reviews and critiques are always appreciated, follow and favorite if you want to keep reading this story and as always, I will see you in the next chapter. Bye~!**


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